


Inside This Place Is Warm

by wolfcloaks



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Library, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blow Jobs, Completed, Crush at First Sight, Crushes, Derek Feels, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski are Soulmates, Derek Uses His Words, Derek and Stiles are Dorks, Derek is a Good Boyfriend, Derek is a philosophy major, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Domestic, Dorks in Love, Emotional wounds, Explicit Consent, F/F, F/M, Family Drama, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Happy Ending, Human Derek Hale, Hurt/Comfort, Insecure Stiles, Jealousy, Librarian Stiles, Light Angst, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Panic Attacks, Past Drug Use, Past Infidelity (Not b/t Derek and Stiles), Past Relationship(s), Pet Names, Pining, Praise Kink, Protective Derek, Rimming, Soulmates, Stiles is Not a Virgin, Stiles is a genius, Stiles is an artist, Stiles is awkward and adorable, Theyre both giant nerds, Time Skips, alternate universe- alive hale family, and a scientist, dissociating, evil exes, genius Derek, healthy relationship, meet cute, past unhealthy relationship(s), terms of endearment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-24
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2017-12-30 07:47:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 40,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1015993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfcloaks/pseuds/wolfcloaks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Coming down; One love, two mouths</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> Stiles Stilinski: </p><p>-Senior at Berkley<br/>-Double majoring in Human Biology and Biomedical Engineering<br/>-Student Librarian<br/>-Closet Artist<br/>-Basket case extrodanaire<br/>-Hopelessly crushing on Derek Hale (read as: pining)</p><p>Derek Hale:</p><p>-Grad Student at Berkley<br/>-Philosophy Major<br/>-Dog enthusiast<br/>-Does <em>not</em> cry during The Notebook, <em>fuck you,Laura</em><br/>-Is definitely <em>not</em> pining over the librarian with the cute moles<br/>-Would very much like to tell the librarian's curly haired boyfriend to fuck off</p><p>Or</p><p>Where Derek and Stiles are complete dweebs in love and jump to horribly inaccurate conclusions </p><p>Or</p><p>When your meet-cute turns into a bit of an (light) angst fest but it's all ok in the end</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Misunderstandings and Overreactions

**Author's Note:**

> This was requested over on my Tumblr, the anon wanted: "Stiles is the librarian at the local university and Derek is super into him but he thinks Isaac and Stiles are dating. Que boys being idiots." 
> 
> Originally a one-shot, expanded upon request.
> 
> Ask and ye shall recieve, anon.
> 
> Title and lyric taken from Sweater Weather by The NBHD
> 
> Disclaimer: Outside of the story line/characterization for this verse, I own absolutely nothing, I'm talking jack shit, the characters themselves are property of Jeff Davis/Teen Wolf, so don't sue me, yeah? I have nothing to give you anyway

Stiles doesn’t know what he’s doing wrong.  
  
Every Tuesday and Friday, like clockwork, tall, dark and brooding makes an appearance, he comes to the circulation desk for the key to the research lab, Stiles flirts with him and in turn gets no more than a raised eyebrow for his troubles.  
  
Lather, rinse, repeat.  
  
You’d think that after a few failed attempts, _six to be exact, not that Stiles is counting or anything_ , his pride  would kick in, but he’s starting to realize that he never had much of that to begin with.

 

Lack of self preservation aside, Stiles just can’t understand why this guy, _Derek_ , as his library card handily supplies, keeps fending off his advances (meaning: lots of smiling and awkward Portlandia refrences), he’s either completely obtuse or you know, not interested.

 

And, okay, _ouch_ , hello rejection, its been a while.

 

Oh God what if Lumberjack Derek is straight? He can’t be, Stiles is sure he saw him check him out once. Or maybe he just had something in his eye?

 

God help him.

 

A this point the only viable option would be locking himself in the research room with Derek; **naked**.

* * *

 

  
Three days later, it hits him.

 

Literally.

Isaac, his good friend and personal tormentor, comes up from behind and smacks Stiles right on the ass, _hard._

 

“Fucking hell, Lahey, do you spank Scott like that?”

 

There’s a brief pause and Stiles gags when a wicked grin lights up the blonde’s face.  
  
“Ugh, Jesus, forget I asked.”

 

Isaac shrugs, choosing to wrap an arm around the brunette’s shoulders. Stiles leans into the touch gratefully, knowing Isaac, this is the closest thing to an apology he’s going to get.  
  
“How’s my favorite bio major?”

 

Stiles snorts, poking his friend in the ribs, “I’m the only bio major you know, saying I’m your favorite isn't really flattering.” Isaac looks offended for about a millisecond before his expression shifts into a wicked grin.  
  
Stiles has an ‘oh hell’ moment and then he’s clutching his own ribs, body twisting to avoid the onslaught of Isaac’s tickling.  
  
The clearing of a throat startles the pair and Stiles comes face to face with Mr. No-stubble-should-be-that-sexy himself.

 

 As always, Derek looks less than amused.

 

Perfect.  
  
Stiles does some aggressive throat clearing of his own, twisting out of Isaac’s grip and straightening his now rumpled cardigan.

 

“Hey-y, Derek, Friday already, huh?”

 

The older of the two just nods in response, there’s a tick in his jaw and he looks as though he’s pleading for patience.

 

Or constipated. Severely.

  
The librarian sucks in a shaky breath before grabbing Derek’s library card and scanning him in.

 

He’s about to grab the lab key when Isaac’s phone goes off, there’s a trill of heavy bass and electronica before Katy Perry’s wailing begins disrupting the quiet nature of the atmosphere,

 

“Hey, babe…”  
  
Stiles gags, receiving a one fingered salute for his troubles. He shoos Isaac away, preferring to be as far away from that love-fest as possible.

 

Also this is a library asshole, respect his authority.  
  
Stiles turns to regard Derek once more, lab key now firmly in hand,

 

“You’d think that after two years I’d be used to him dating my best friend, but no, they’re still gross.”

Derek smirks and Stiles swears it’s the closest thing to joy he’s ever seen on the other man’s face.

A bright flush overtakes Stiles’ face and he quickly shoves the key in Derek’s hands.

 

Things were much easier when his crush was stoic and uninterested.  
  
Derek’s smirk widens, it’s reaching grinning levels at this point and for a moment Stiles feels his brain short circuit.

 

He doesn't have time to dwell because now Derek’s lips are moving and that eyebrow quirk is back but this time it seems almost…amused?

What the fuck is going on?  
  
"Huh?"  
  
Stiles Stilinski: a pillar of cool, a god among men.

 

He nearly slams his head into the computer out of embarrassment, he’s interning for NASA this summer and all he can come up with is, ‘huh’, he can almost hear Lydia laughing at him from her dorm room at MIT.  
  
Derek, bless his heart, seems to be patient and repeats his question, "I said, would you like to go out some time?"  
  
It’s official, Stiles has walked into the twilight zone, at any moment a vortex is going to open beneath his feet and transport him back to his reality.  
  
Not trusting himself to speak, he nods, vigorously, Derek must think he’s having a stroke.  
  
"I’d love that." He manages to croak out once he regains control of his bodily functions.

 

Derek beams once more and tugs on Stiles hand (holy shit), a sharpie seems to have appeared from thin air (Stiles’ desk) and Derek scrawls his phone number along Stiles’ forearm; he caps the marker with a wink and then saunters away followed by an "I’ll be expecting your call" tossed over his shoulder.  
  
If Isaac comes back to find Stiles beaming down at his arm , he doesn't mention it, meaning he restricts himself to making no more than three jokes about Stiles and his ever present relationship with his right hand.

 

* * *

  
  
  
Stiles is **fucked** and not in the fun way.

  
No, he's screwed, doomed, destined to die alone. Why? Because Derek’s on his way and he still has no idea what to wear. Derek’s never seen him outside of the dorkdom that is his library cardigan, glasses, and button down combo.

 

He needs to impress, okay?

  
Stiles doesn't have to turn around to know that Isaac is laughing at his expense. The bastard.

 

"You won't be laughing when I put your balls through a meat grinder, Lahey."

  
Is it hot in here? Stiles is sure he’s about to pass out.

  
  
Maybe Derek won't notice?

 

Isaac could just slap some sunglasses over his eyes and lift him into the car, Stiles would probably regain consciousness halfway through the date, make some joke about staying up late to study for his midterms and Derek would quirk a brow, maybe even smirk and offer up a way to keep him awake. A _sexy_ way-  
  
"Stiles!"  
  
And yep, uncontrollable limbs meet immovable object.

 

Its his bookshelf this time.

 

Panicked and nearly incapacitated, Stiles rounds on the source of his pain, the cotton of his bath towel twirls dramatically around him from the sudden movement.

  
"Fuck, Isaac, if you kill me who's gonna pay the other half of the rent? Fuck, I think its broken."

 

The blonde smirks, looking more amused than concerned for his friend's well-being. Rude.

  
  
"Suck it up, you hit your foot on the desk because you're a spazz, that's not my fault, besides why would I kill you after I found the perfect outfit? Seems like a waste of my time, no?"

 

 _Oh_ , well, now that he thinks about it his foot really doesn’t hurt that much, its more of a dull throb.

 

"And just where is this perfect outfit, limp-dick?"

 

Isaac's face shrivels at the nick-name and for a moment Stiles allows himself to bask in his victory, relishing in his roommate's dissatisfied grumbling.

"Towards the back of the closet, denim shirt with the red trousers, you can wear sneakers but I'd go with your oxfords for a first date."

The brunette forms a mental image of the outfit and hums in satisfaction, leaning down to press a sloppy kiss to Isaac's cheek.

"By god, Lahey, there's hope for you yet!"

 

Isaac rolls his eyes in response, a fond smile tugging at his lips, he rises from his perch on Stiles' bed, glancing down at his watch,

  
  
"You have about fifteen minutes 'till grumpy cat gets here, I'll be staying at Scott's tonight, please try to resist before you inevitably put out, it shows character."

  
  
The blonde pinches Stiles' cheek (the one on his face this time) and flounces out the door before his friend can tell him off for the 'grumpy cat' comment.

Shaking his head, Stiles sets out to retrieve the outfit from his closet, opting to heed Isaac's suggestion and go with the oxfords.

A quick glance at his phone has him rushing to the bathroom, Derek's text said he was about five minutes away and Stiles hadn't even fixed his hair yet.

 

He allows himself to mourn the loss of his infamous buzz-cut, the days when he could roll out of bed without a care were long gone.

  
  
Minutes later, the doorbell sounds and Stiles quickly does a full body check, straightening out his shirt and spraying on cologne. He slips on his oxfords, being sure to grab his wallet and keys, and heads toward the front door.

 

Jesus.

 

His heart was pounding in his chest and he hadn't even opened the door yet. Get a grip, Stilinski.

  
  
With one last deep breath he unlocks the door, willing his nerves to just calm the fuck down.

 

* * *

 

 _Damn_.

 

He feels as though the wind has been knocked out of him, Derek looks **good**. The word sinful comes to mind.

  
  
If Stiles thought he was sex on legs at the library then he really doesn’t know what to make of him now.

 

Derek’s normally clean shaven face is sprouting an impressive amount of stubble, his blue-green eyes are shining; no longer impeded by the glare of his glasses and _oh god his body_.

  
  
Stiles is in dire need of a bib or maybe a bucket, he’s sure he’s drooling.

 

Derek is dressed in a dark shoulder hugging blazer, a white v-neck (holy shit is that chest hair?), and tight dark wash jeans.

 

Stiles has a sneaking suspicion that if Derek turns around the sight of his ass will bring him to tears.  
  
How is he supposed to survive this date? He’s not even sure he’ll make it out the front door.

“Hi, Stiles.”

Suddenly it’s all sharp white teeth (teeth fetishes are thing, right?), crinkling eyes, and the soft timber of Derek’s voice.

 

 _D.O.A. Do not pass go, do not collect $200_.

 

He’s talking to you, idiot. Say something.  
  
“Uh...”  
  
Stiles should write romance novels, he’s great at this.

  
Sputtering, he shakes his head to clear his thoughts before running his hands through his hair nervously.

 

 “I mean, Hi, Derek, you look, great, like, amazing actually.”

 

Stiles hasn’t blushed this much since the ‘safe sex’ talk with his dad.

Derek quirks a brow, smirking before reaching forward to secure his fingers in Stiles’ empty belt-loops.

  
  
The action brings the pair closer together and for a second Stiles thinks he may have died and gone to heaven. Sexy, stubble-y, kaleidoscope eyed heaven.

_Please don’t stop touching me. Ever. At all. Let’s just get married, have lots of sex, adopt a couple ki-_

 

Derek’s voice breaks him from his thoughts, “Amazing, hmm? I could get used to that.”

_Oh my god???_

 

This is too much, Stiles is not equipped for this.

  
  
Derek must sense his internal struggle because his smirk stretches wider, wicked almost, and then he’s pulling back, breathing out a litany of compliments against Stiles’ skin before they fully part.

  
  
“Oh wow, thank you, um, you ready to head out?”

 

And there it is again, that mega-watt smile.

Stiles can’t decide if he wants to pinch Derek’s cheeks or suck his brains out through his dick.

 

He’ll take both for 200, Alex.

  
“Sure thing, I was thinking I’d take you to this great Thai place I know and then maybe we could see a movie or go to the park after?”

  
  
Stiles offers Derek a grin of his own, nodding as he turns around to lock up the apartment.

  
  
“That sounds perfect, how about we go to the park? There’s something I want to show you.”

* * *

  
  
“So besides being a complete and utter tease at the library, what else do you do?” Derek briefly spares Stiles a glance, mouth quirked at the corners, before returning his attention to the road.  
  
His eyes are shining with mirth, tone suggesting that he was only half-joking.  
  
Derek thought he was a tease? Derek thought about him, period?  
  
Stiles willed away his nervousness, before Derek asked him out Stiles thought he couldn’t stand him and now here they were in Derek’s Camaro with Stiles fidgeting nervously in the passenger seat.  
  
It felt like a bit of a whirlwind.

 

 Sensing his discomfort, Derek seemed to deflate a bit, tightening his grip on the wheel and staring straight ahead.  
  
“Shit, Stiles, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, sorry if I came across as too forward.”

  
“Oh, no, Derek, there’s no need to apologize, honestly, I just always thought that you hated me. Now we’re here in your car, on a date and it’s a little hard to wrap my head around things, that’s all.”  
  
The elder’s posture visibly relaxed and he smiled softly before reaching over and taking one of Stiles’ hands in his own, “I never hated you, Stiles, quite the opposite, I intend on proving that to you tonight.”  
  
The remainder of the ride was spent getting to know each-other, Stiles talked about his dad and Scott, his hobbies and what grad schools he was applying to and in turn Derek told Stiles about his massive family, his obsession with baseball and how it felt to finally finish his dissertation.  
  
Before he’s even realized it, the car is coming to a stop and Derek’s walking around to open his door.  
  
Stiles had never felt more relaxed in his life; once he got over his initial nervousness he found that Derek was profoundly easy to talk to.

 

He didn’t push when Stiles glossed over his mother’s death and he actually listened to Stiles ramble on about biology.  
  
If Stiles wasn’t careful he could easily see himself falling for Derek.  
  
_Would that really be so bad? When was the last time you had someone to wake up to, to kiss, to lov-_  
  
Derek’s hand on the small of his back pulls him from his thoughts and he allows himself to be guided toward the restaurant.  
  
“I don’t know about you but I’m starving.”  
  
Stiles does his best to offer a smile in return, any thoughts of the ‘L word’ have no place on his date with Derek.  
  
He’ll save those for when he’s alone with only one of Isaac’s boxed wines to keep him company.  
  
When Derek mentioned a “great Thai place” Stiles figured they’d go to a small family owned restaurant where they knew everyone by name; they’d greet Derek and Stiles with a smile and usher them over to a table far off in the corner, something intimate and cozy where they could focus on just each-other.

 

But this? This was _posh._  
  
“Right this way, gentlemen.”

 

 Derek takes Stiles hand in his own, following the hostess with an ease and familiarity that suggests he’s been here before.  
  
_Probably on other dates, I wouldn’t get your hopes up with this one._

 

Leave it to Stiles be his own worst enemy, growing up as “the kid with the dead mom and workaholic father” tended to have that effect.  
  
“So what do you think?” Stiles blinked owlishly, he’d been so caught up in his thoughts that he hadn’t even noticed when they sat down, let alone that Derek had started speaking.

 

If he didn’t know any better he’d say Derek looked nervous.

“It’s beautiful, not what I was expecting but definitely quite the scene, I can’t wait to try the food.”

“You’ll love it, trust me, I know the atmosphere is a bit much for a first date but Laura and I come here all the time and we’ve never been disappointed."  
  
At that Stiles couldn’t help but grin, this was where Derek came with his _sister_ ; the fact that he even thought to bring Stiles here was flattering within itself.

 

* * *

 

 “Go on without me! I’ll have them U-haul me to the park!”

  
  
A striking laugh bubbles up out of Derek’s mouth and Stiles is sure he’s preening.

  
  
Derek’s laughing at something _he_ said, _he_ made that glorious sound fall from those lips.

 

It’s something that makes Stiles stomach flutter, that sound, he wants to bottle it up and keep it with him; that little piece of Derek that he gets to claim.

 

“I told you not to have that last bowl of Tom Yum Gung but no,”Stilinski men never back down from a challenge” Oh how the mighty have fallen.”  
  
Derek crosses his arms and fixes him with a haughty look, smirking lips twitching at the corners.  
  
Stiles presses a hand over his eyes dramatically, peeking out between his fingers,

  
  
“Et tu. Brute?”

 

Derek snorts in response, shaking his head in disbelief.

 

They managed to make it outside of the restaurant before Stiles decided to resort to theatrics, claiming that he was unable to make it back to the Camaro on his own.

 

_I’m stuffed. You’re gonna have to roll me back home Derek._

  
  
“Alright, Caesar, climb aboard.”

 

Derek bends his knees, grinning when Stiles’ latches onto his back, limbs wrapped around him like an octopus.

  
  
“Go slow, this is precious cargo!”


	2. Nature vs Nuture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm super proud of this chapter, its a long one, heavy on the dialogue, but it really gives you insight into Stiles' personality and what shaped him into the person he is today, please please please give me some feedback, I won't know what to do or improve if I don't hear from you guys, I appreciate the kudos and the subscriptions and the bookmarks but the comments are what keep me going! That said, I hope you enjoy this chapter, it's one of my favorites so far.

Hues of green and auburn blurred into one another as the Camaro traveled along the winding path leading to the center most point of Beacon Hills;  _Founder's Park_. As the name suggested, the plot of land was an homage to the town's founding members, bearers of names that had stood the test of time and not-coincidentally namesakes whom in the present day maintained a firm grip on the upper echelon of society.

Fall was in full swing and Stiles couldn't help but smile to himself, memories of his mother flashing into his mind. This time of year was undoubtedly her favorite, he could recall her waking him up bright and early on the first day of Harvest, dragging his tiny body out of bed and layering him with scarves and coats. She'd press a kiss on the tip of his nose as she wound the knit fabric snugly around his neck, eyes twinkling with mirth, "Do you know what day it is, my beloved?" They both knew he knew, it was traditional after all, but he humored her, loving nothing more than to see his mother's warm smile when he gave his answer, "Of course I do, silly Mama! It's Harvest day! Today we get the best pumpkin! The Pumpkin King!" His mother would chuckle softly and gather him in her arms, flooding his senses with jasmine and vanilla, "That's right my, angel, today we claim our harvest pumpkin, I'm counting on you little man, you're gonna be my eyes, I need you to find Mama the biggest pumpkin you can and when you do we'll call Daddy over and have him drag it to the car!" His younger self grinned, clearly amused by the mischief in his mother's tone. 

Fingers entangling with his own lured Stiles out of his daze and he smiled over at Derek, grateful to the older man for pulling him out of his memories. Grey-green eyes scanned over Stiles' face, noting the tightness at the corners of his mouth and the sudden glassiness of his eyes, it didn't take much to figure out that something was upsetting the brunette and as much as Derek wanted to pry, and poke, and _fix_ , he held his tongue, he knew better than anyone the necessity of keeping things to one's self. He only hoped that if Stiles found the burden too much to bear that he'd seek Derek out for comfort. He was quickly growing attached to the younger boy and found himself overcome with the need to please him, to keep him happy, and safe. It was thrilling, but terrifying, caring for someone so much and so fast, but Derek was never one to stress over timing, he was undoubtedly a romantic and when he fell for someone semantics flew out the window. A nagging voice deep in the recesses of his mind, recalled a familiar situation in which he fell for someone rapidly and just what consequences befell him, but Derek pushed those thoughts aside, if he let past experiences dictate his every move he'd never find happiness. He gave their interlocked fingers a gentle squeeze before focusing his attention back on the road, they were nearing the entrance of the park and if he was lucky they'd be able to snag Derek's coveted spot near the welcoming arc. A few more feet and there it was, quite possibly the best parking spot known to man, well at least Derek thought so anyway, he reversed in and eased the Camaro into park, quickly unblocking his seat belt and making his exit. Derek walked over to the passenger side and opened Stiles' door with a wink and flourish, grinning when the lithe man snorted out a laugh. 

Stiles could do nothing more than laugh at Derek's antics, ignoring the heat dancing in his gut when the older man winked at him. He took Derek's hand in his own and began to lead him further into the park, obviously with a set destination in mind. "Dare I ask where you're taking me?" Derek questioned, the teasing edge to his voice rising a smirk out of Stiles, "Isn't obvious, Der? I'm going to deflower you in the middle of the park, and celebrate the acquisition of your virtue." The green eyed man huffed out a laugh and pinched Stiles' rear in jest, "Seems like someone's been dipping into the erotic mythology section while on duty." The librarian sputtered, ears heating up in response to Derek's teasing; _how did Derek even know that section of the library existed?_ Stiles regained some semblance of control and glared at the older man, "What I do on my own personal time is none of your business, Hale, now hush before I choke you with that scarf you're wearing." Derek grinned and leaned closer to Stiles, lips brushing against his ear as he spoke, "Kink negotiation on the first date? I never pegged you for the type, Stiles, but we can discuss that later, lead the way."

The younger man huffed, cursing his body for reacting to Derek's words, _it just wasn't fair._ Derek was once again overwhelming Stiles with his hotness, it's like he got off on getting Stile worked up-and okay, now there's a thought, a thought that he needed to stop thinking about immediately because he'd be dammed if he popped a boner in the middle of the fucking park, _God_. Instead, he doubled his efforts on arriving at their destination, grateful that Derek had decided to pause in his teasing, _for now_. When they arrived at the clearing Stiles slowed to a stop and gently removed his hand from Derek's, mourning the loss of contact. Amber eyes scanned the scene before them nervously, as skinny fingers ran through his mane in an attempt to calm himself down.

Finally, he refocused his gaze on Derek, eager to hear his assessment, "Well, What do you think?"

Stiles was nervous. Okay, maybe nervous was an understatement, he was **_nervous_** , yeah the emphasis seemed to sum it up a bit better. You know; that ringing in your ears, blood rushing to your brain, knees weak-legs like jello; **_nervous_**. I mean this was kind of a big deal, a momentous occasion and extremely personal by anyone’s standard, _Dear Goddess_ , why in the hell did he decide that this was an appropriate first date activity? For someone with a genius level IQ, he sure was adept at faulty decision making; even Scott wouldn’t be able to cosign this one. Briefly, he wondered if it was too late to turn back around and suggest a walk instead, maybe he could feign illness. That sounded good, his dad always said Stiles was a terrific actor, which okay maybe he didn’t mean it as a compliment but whatever.  He could collapse to the ground dramatically, and then Derek, _beside himself_ with concern for Stiles’ ~~lanky~~ _astoundingly fit and toned_ body, would rush to his side and sweep him up and into his arms. He’d card his fingers through his hair and ask if Stiles was hurt, his voice would be all gruff and gravely, edged with concern for Stiles’ well-being. When Derek was sure that it was merely a scratch, he’d whisk Stiles away and lock them together in his cabin (Derek totally had a cabin, I mean look at him) , only pausing their **mindblowingly fantasic** sex (another given) to feed Stiles by hand and okay wait-Where was he going with this? Right, the topic at hand; _Stiles’ abject terror_.

If Derek was aware of Stiles’ minor nervous breakdown, he didn’t say anything, actually, he hadn’t said anything since Stiles’ asked him for his opinion; the older man was completely silent, almost suspiciously so. Stiles hoped that when he managed to look the other man in the eyes he wouldn’t find rejection, this was deeply important to him and he wasn’t sure he could handle it if Derek reacted negatively. Stiles counted to ten and looked up, readying himself for the worst.

Derek could do nothing but gape, he was trying to come up with words, anything, even syllables at this point would be welcome, to help him describe the sheer _beauty_ of the scene before him. As someone in the final stages of obtaining their PhD, and in Philosophy no less, he should feel thoroughly embarrassed, really, he should be ready to wax poetic at any given moment, but now, now words were escaping him but understandably so.

Standing before them was one of the most exquisite sculptures Derek had ever seen. It was cast in marble and towered at almost seven feet, the figure was that of a beautiful woman, draped in loose robes, with a cherub like face that smiled serenely down at what appeared to be an infant swaddled in her arms-or what would have been her arms had the sculptor chosen a more realistic approach, instead the infant was wrapped in their mother’s (at least Derek assumed the woman was the baby’s mother, the whole vibe seemed like a private moment between matron and offspring, well to Derek atleast) wings, but instead of feathers  the woman’s wings were exposed down to the bone, the marbled nature of the sculpture serving to highlight that fact. It was beautiful, but strikingly sad, a mother wrapping up her greatest gift in the arms of death, a pang of sorrow settled in Derek’s chest and he did his best to shake it off, Stiles was still awaiting his answer.

Clearing his throat, Derek reached out for Stiles, pulling the younger man closer and wrapping his arms around him.

“Stiles, this..this is _beautiful_ , who…” Derek’s words caught in his throat at the sight of Stiles’ face. Stiles looked absolutely wrecked, and when he spoke Derek could hear the tremble in his voice, “This, is my mother, and well me I guess. In addition to being great at pretty much anything else she put her mind to, my mother was an amazing artist. My dad built her a studio in our house and I remember when I was little she’d carry me to the studio and we’d spend our afternoons painting or working on pottery or jewelry, it was the only time my mind slowed down enough for me to concentrate on the task at hand, well before Adderall anyway. I wasn’t much good when I was younger, not that I would’ve known otherwise, my mother was so encouraging, even  when I grew frustrated with myself and threw a tantrum, she was always there to calm me down and get me back on track. One time, I was having a really bad day, I’d had a night terror the night before and I was feeling anxious, I can’t remember what I was working on but for some reason it just didn’t look right to me, my mom was there, like she always was, lending me a hand and encouraging me, and I just wasn’t having any of it, I lashed out. I took a whole tube of yellow paint and squirted it all over the canvas she was working on. I started gathering up all the paint and tossing it everywhere, over everything. I was just so angry and rattled and she wasn’t giving me the reaction I wanted, I thought she was mocking me like in the nightmare and I couldn’t take it.”

Stiles pulls in a shuddering breath before continuing and Derek squeezes him tightly, pulling him even closer so that Stiles can rest his head against his chest.

“When I snapped out of it my mom was holding me in her arms and singing to me, after all of that, after ruining her painting and being a complete and utter brat she still wasn’t mad at me. That was my mother, forgiving and kind, almost to a fault. After she was sure that I was relaxed, she turned on some music and together we started cleaning up the studio, when we got over to her painting I wanted to cry all over again, she had been working on a portrait of us, it was modeled after a picture my dad took of her in the hospital when I was just born, I was wrapped up in a blanket she made for me and she was smiling down at me, looking at her then you couldn’t even tell she’d gone through five hours of labor. My mom calmed me down again and promised that once we were done cleaning up we could fix the painting, she’d paint over the canvas and this time we could work on it together.” Stiles huddled closer to Derek, nestling his head underneath the older man’s chin, Derek glided his hands along Stiles’ back in response, rubbing soothing patterns into the fabric of his jacket. The pair relaxed in silence for a few moments before Stiles pulled himself together and began speaking again, “She kept her promise, we worked on that painting every day for weeks, calling it beautiful would be an understatement, my father almost cried when he saw it, but looking at it always made me feel so _warm_ , it reminded me that no matter what, my mother loved me above all else, outside of being with her when she passed, working on that with her was the closest I think we’ve ever been. I still have that painting with me, can’t hang it though, it-it doesn’t feel the same but I like knowing its near me, I go look at it sometimes, when I’m really really missing her.”

Stiles presses a kiss beneath Derek’s chin and pulls back, taking Derek’s hand in his and leading him closer to the statue, Stiles bends to a crouch and motions for Derek to join him, keeping their hands  clasped together between them. Pale fingers glide along the engraving at the bottom of the sculpture; ‘ _Claudia Stilinski; Gone but Forever in Our Hearts_ ’. Stiles continues to trace along the words with an ease that suggests he’s done it many times before, “I was eight when my mother died, she was my best-friend and it absolutely destroyed me, I had panic attacks every other day for months afterward, I still get them sometimes-I didn’t know how I was supposed to function or love in a world without my mother to show me the light in it.” Stiles’ fingers still for a moment before continuing their path, Derek gives the hand still entwined with his a squeeze, urging the brunette to continue. 

“Despite being a bio major, a fine arts credit was necessary to satisfy my undergraduate requirements, I’d been holding it off semester after semester and my advisor was at her wits end, finally she took it upon herself to enroll me in a 3D modeling and sculpture class. I was _pissed_. Art to me was something deeply personal; it was an integral part of my memories of my mother and our relationship, to be thrust into it like that felt like all the wounds that I’d work so hard to close were being torn open again. It fucking sucked but my full ride depends on my GPA so I had to suck it up. We had one project for the whole semester and it was to craft something that we felt was representative of ourselves but undiluted, our true nature so-to-speak. So I chose this,” Stiles looks up at the sculpture and closes his eyes tightly, Derek can tell that this is taking a lot out of him and he wants nothing more than to wrap Stiles in his arms but he knows the younger man needs to get this out. Instead he presses a kiss to the back of Stiles’ hand. “I’ve never stopped feeling like that small boy wrapped up in his mother’s arms, calmed by the warmth of her touch and the love in her voice. I don’t even remember what grade I ended up with that semester, I passed of course, I’m sure of that, but it was the furthest thing from my mind, I just wanted to do a good job, I wanted my mom, wherever she was to be able to look at this with pride, and know that I did it all for her.”

Stiles’ voice catches at the end of his speech, thick with emotion, and Derek pulls his hand away from the base of the statue, finally guiding Stiles into his arms. Stiles falls into the embrace, emotionally exhausted, and allows the tears to fall, body shaking with sobs. Derek settles into the grass, anchoring the man, who now, face red and cheeks wet with tears, looks more boyish than Derek’s ever seen him, and cradles him as he lets it all out, murmuring soft words of encouragement and comfort.  Derek runs his fingers through Stiles hair, gently wrapping around the silky strands, he wants to be strong for Stiles but he’d have to be completely heartless to be unaffected by the scene before him, he tries to keep the emotion out of his voice but he’s sure he fails, “Stiles, Stiles, baby, come on, look at me, please..” Stiles hiccups softly and sniffles, allowing Derek’s fingers to tilt his chin up so he can look at the older man, “I didn’t know your mother, and I wish I would’ve gotten the opportunity to, but from the way you talk about her I know for a fact that she would be so _so_ proud of you, not just of what you’ve done to honor her, but of you in general, Stiles, you’re light personified, I don’t know if that’s a little piece of her in you or something all your own but when you walk into a room everything just gets this glow about it, there’s a warmth you radiate and I feel so lucky to know you, to have you here like this with me, and I’m sure your mother felt the same way, _you_ are her legacy Stiles, not this statue, and you’re more than enough.”

Stiles is crying again, but he can’t help it, Derek was here and he was holding him, and caressing him and saying all these _things_. How else was he supposed to react?

Derek’s fingers trailed over his cheeks, wiping the fallen tears away and Stiles leans into the touch. Derek focuses his attention down at Stiles, heart heavy with empathy and perhaps a thread of something else for the amber eyed man in front of him, he flicks his eyes between Stiles’ own and the brunette’s lips, silently pleading for permission. Stiles grants him a nod and Derek cradles his jaw in his hands, checking Stiles eyes once more for any signs of uncertainty, satisfied that the younger man was on board; he tilted his head down slightly and connected their lips in a gentle kiss.


	3. Three's Company

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well hello! Thanks so much again for the comments! You guys are the best, I love and appreciate your feedback so please keep it coming! I'll start replying to comments after I upload the chapter after this one so please ask me questions or give me some input or anything! I'm looking forward to building a dialogue with you guys! I appreciate the kudos, bookmarks, and subscriptions as well! In this chapter we have the meeting of the minds, Stiles and Laura, I'm excited!

This was **_good_**. And okay, why exactly was he attending Berkley? If good was all he could come up with then he should probably pursue education elsewhere. Fast. In the words of Lydia, _good_ , was a word reserved for coffee flavored gelato or mediocre sex; both of which didn’t even deserve to be mentioned in the same breath as the situation at hand. This, here now, kissing Derek, _this_ , was like an Adderall high without the nausea, this was _clarity_ , this was his mother and his father, in the kitchen Sunday mornings, making pancakes and teasing and dancing, this was birthday parties with Scott and Lydia, mischief and mayhem, madness and merriment; this was everything he’s ever felt crammed into a singular blinding unit of time. Fireworks couldn’t even come close.

Derek was losing his fucking mind. Kissing Stiles was robbing him of all sanity and perhaps it was for the better. Who needed lucidity when he could have Stiles, here like this, warm and beautiful and _pliant_ , in his arms. What started out as a gentle kiss quickly delved into something much more, it was a natural progression, second nature; so instinctual that neither party noticed it happening, going from, ‘ _I’m here for you I care for you let me protect you I want to make it better’_  to ‘ _Yes yes more I need more everything I want all of you here now always_ ’. Stiles let out a gasp, clutching tighter at Derek, coaxing the older to man to deepen the kiss, and who was Derek not to oblige him? Derek moaned into the kiss, relishing in the feeling of Stiles’ tongue gliding against his, he could see how this would quickly become his favorite pastime.

Time, to Stiles, was nothing but an illusion, it was something he said often, especially when he was feeling remarkably existential, but kissing Derek was re-affirming that notion. As far as Stiles was concerned, nothing outside of this mattered, they were in their own little bubble, and there wasn’t anything that could pop it. Which okay, that was a lie, it was getting later, and thus colder and maybe Stiles wanted to go over his notes before his test tomorrow but that was all beside the point. The point was Derek was arguably the best kisser Stiles had ever had the fortune to kiss and he never wanted to stop kissing him. Ever. He was pretty sure that Derek was on the same page too, if the way he was plundering Stiles’ mouth was anything to go by, and hmmm, maybe plundered would be a better verb, past tense, since Derek was now kissing along Stiles’ jaw. The feather light kisses took a path from his jaw to beneath his ear, and now Derek was kissing his neck, with a whimper, Stiles titled his head to the side and granted Derek a better angle to continue his ministrations.

 Kissing turned to licking, which turned to biting, which turned to sucking and now Stiles was done. Gone. Out of his body, Derek had triggered his first ever astral projection. He felt like putty, jell-o, play-doh for Derek to mold however he saw fit. He was sure he would end up with a hickey that would make even Lydia blush but he couldn’t drum up the energy to care.

Once he was satisfied with his handiwork, Derek pressed a final kiss to the blossoming hickey on Stiles’ flesh, he couldn’t wait to see the mark in full bloom, something about having tangible evidence of their passion on Stiles’ pale skin satisfied Derek’s inner possessive streak. Stiles for his part looked completely and utterly debauched,  his hair was a mess, sticking up every which way from Derek tugging on it during their make-out session, his cheeks were flushed pink and upon further examination Derek saw that said  flush traveled far past the collar of Stiles’ shirt, but the real coup de grâce, was Stiles’ lips, sinful on a regular day, now they looked _obscene_ , they were red and swollen, shiny from Stiles constantly running his tongue over them, it was borderline pornographic. If Derek didn’t get himself under control, _he’d_ end up being the one acquiring _Stiles’_ virtue in the middle of the park. He took in a deep breath and busied himself with rearranging Stiles’ hair into something that resembled the style it was in at the beginning of the night, he failed miserably, but that didn’t matter, at this point Stiles could grow his hair out into a mullet and Derek would still think he was the most beautiful creature he ever laid eyes on. Derek Hale, ladies and gentlemen, certified Stiles Stilinski addict; no rehab required.

“I’d kiss you all day if you’d let me, but it’s getting late and I’d hate to be the reason you caught a cold.” Derek pulled Stiles to his feet, straightening out the brunette’s clothes before pressing a kiss to the button of his nose. Stiles tilted his head a bit to leer at Derek, “Hmm, but say I did get sick, think we could play doctor?”

If Stiles noticed the tips of Derek’s ears flushing red, he was merciful enough not to mention it.  

* * *

 

“Its gonna be fine, Stiles, from what you’ve relayed to me from Derek, Laura sounds like your long lost twin, she’ll love you.”  _Its gonna be fine, Stiles_ , the brunette mocked in his head, scrunching his face despite the fact that his best-friend wouldn’t be able to see it. Of course Scott was blindingly optimistic, why wouldn’t he be? Scott was lovable, adorable, charming; all adjectives that had never been applied to Stiles Stilinski; not outside of jest, anyway. Scott couldn’t possibly understand the crippling anxiety wreaking havoc on Stiles’ psyche. It wasn’t like he was just meeting Derek for lunch like he normally would, this time there would be a guest, a very special, intimidating guest who Derek loved more than anyone, a guest who Stiles was sure could spell the end of his relationship with Derek if the meeting went south. Goddess help him.

Stiles and Derek cemented their relationship three months ago, and as to be expected things were going blissfully; they still snarked back and forth and teased one another mercilessly, but it was more foreplay at this point. Last Sunday, during brunch, Derek proposed that Stiles join him and his (beautiful, terrifying, amazing, favorite etc) sister, Laura for lunch after he picked her up from the airport, she was visiting Derek for the week and apparently she couldn’t wait to meet the infamous Stiles. Stiles had nodded enthusiastically in response, probably too enthusiastically now that he looked back on the moment, managing to squeak out that he’d love to; then Derek’s face did that thing where it seemed to light up from within and his eyes crinkled at the corners and he just looked so _fond_ of Stiles in that very moment that the brunette didn’t have the heart to voice any of his concerns. Derek had him wrapped around his finger and Laura would likely have him trapped under her boot; Stiles was screwed.

“C’mon Scotty, this is me we’re talking about, not you with the big brown eyes and the adorably crooked jaw or even Isaac, with the whole blonde cherub scarf model thing he has going on-I’m _Stiles Stilinski_ , overactive fuck-up extraordinaire.” Stiles picked at comforter on his bed nervously, letting out a sigh as he collapsed back into its warm embrace.  He hated when he got like this, nit-picking and critiquing himself obsessively, it was something left over from his youth he supposed. Not too many people were fond of the sheriff’s overactive twitchy little kid, preferring to ignore him entirely than attempt an interaction and that was just the adults. The children at school were an entirely (traumatizing, abusive, _mean_ ) different story. “Stiles,” Scott began, voice soft and tentative, talking to his best-friend when he was in one of these moods was like navigating a mine-field, one wrong step and disaster struck, “That’s a bit of a biased review, huh, buddy? I don’t know this other guy you’re talking about but the Stiles I know? My brother? That guy is witty, and charming, he’s like a walking encyclopedia without all of the boring bits, he’s kind, and he cares to a fault, he’s the best brother a guy could ever ask for, and I have it on good authority that he has a pretty sweet ass too.” Stiles snorted at the last bit, he knew exactly who that good authority was, he and Isaac would be having a nice chat about boundaries in the near future.

“I love you, McCall, and thank you, really I needed to hear that.” “Of course bud, you know I’m your biggest fan; now get out there and woo your boyfriend’s sister.” Stiles huffed out a laugh, that just sounded all sorts of wrong. “Poor choice of words there amigo, but I get the sentiment, I’ll talk to you later and tell your boyfriend to stop talking to you about my ass.” “No promises, bye Stiles, good luck!” Stiles disconnected the call, shaking his head all the while,  if things didn’t work out with Derek he guessed he could persuade Isaac and Scott into a polyamorous relationship, he didn't think it'd be too much of a hardship, if that one time at Lydia’s Halloween party was anything to go by, but those were musings for another time, he had an overprotective sister to woo.

* * *

 

“Stiles, this is my sister Laura, Laura this is my Stiles, my boyfriend.” Derek was absolutely giddy; he could feel his jaw ache from smiling so hard but he didn’t mind it, his two favorite people (No offense mom and dad) were in the same place at the same time, he was entitled to his glee. After picking Laura from the airport, she demanded that Derek give her a tour of his campus, granted she’d been there before as it was her Alma Matter but Laura never got tired of idling around and regaling him with tales (“If you ever tell mom, I’ll make sure she knows what really happened to her Tiffany Vase”) from her years at university. By the time they were done with their explorations, it was a quarter to noon, just enough time to make it to their lunch reservations.

Stiles walked forward, already extending his hand to shake, but Laura beat him to it, instead choosing to wrap her arms around him and press a chaste kiss to his cheek, “It’s lovely to finally meet you Stiles,” She pulled back, eyes scanning him head to toe before meeting Stiles’ gaze straight on, a smirk tugged at her lips but her eyes, almost identical to Derek’s, twinkled with mirth, “I must say, little brother, I’m impressed, you weren’t kidding when you were telling me what an absolute cutie he is.” Stiles didn’t need a mirror to know he was blushing, he could feel the heat from his flush settling across his cheeks and ears. He ran a hand through his hair before fixing Laura with a shy grin, “Its lovely to meet you too, Laura, I see beauty runs in the family.” At that, the older woman nearly cooed, linking her arms through Stiles’ and guiding him over to their reserved table, she threw a glance over her shoulder, tilting her head at her brother, who stood there seemingly frozen to his spot, “Well c’mon Derek, we haven’t got all day, I’m sure our little Stiles here is starving.”

Derek was at loss; the situation at hand was entirely too good or perhaps alarming? Terrifying? The start of the apocalypse? He couldn’t quite tell. Logically speaking, he knew Laura and Stiles would hit it off, they were both wicked smart and had nearly identical senses of humor and tastes in pop culture, but now seeing them here together in person Derek was borderline regretting his decision. They got along _too_ well; like they hadn’t even received their appetizers yet and his sister and his boyfriend were already plotting world domination well. And what’s this about Lydia? That was one of Stiles’ best-friends, the “Red Queen” as Stiles called her and okay, now Derek was definitely terrified, it was bad enough with just Stiles and Laura but add Lydia to the mix and humanity didn’t stand a chance. God, he’d unleashed a monster. If the table’s other two occupants noticed Derek’s distress they didn’t comment on it, in fact he preferred it that way, the last thing he needed was for Laura to focus her full attention on him, she had an arsenal of embarrassing childhood anecdotes at the ready and Derek knew his sister well enough to know that she wasn’t above using them. He tried to hold in his shudder at the thought, focusing his energies on the menu in front of him, maybe if he was completely silent they’d forget he was here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, you definitely unleashed a monster there Derek, he should've seen this coming really-Oh well. Un-beta'd as usual so feel free to point out any grammar/spelling/general wonkyness you find and I'll fix it as soon as I can.


	4. Mały lis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments & Constructive criticism are much appreciated and definitely help me upload faster! Thank you all so much for reading and the kudos and comments!

“So Stiles, Derek tells me you’re a Biology major? How’d that come about?”

Stiles’ slim fingers wrapped around the glass in front of him, bringing the drink to his lips while he considered Laura’s question. It was one he got often; the general population seemed unable to fathom why Stiles would subject himself to a life of taxing lab work and long nights of research but he had his reasons.

Satisfied, he set his glass down and began toying with the rim nervously, “Well, I’m actually double majoring in Human Biology and Biomedical Engineering, I normally just say Biology as a catch all.”

The waiter comes over with the appetizers and Stiles pauses for a moment, collecting his thoughts before continuing, “I’m not sure if Derek told you but my mother passed when I was eight, she had Behavior Variant Frontotemporal Dementia, a nerve disorder that causes cell loss in the frontal and temporal lobes of the brain. With Behavior Variant FTD, the degeneration leads to progressively severe emotional and social changes, in my mother’s case this manifested in the form of irritability, impulsiveness, insomnia, hallucinations, and the inability to determine dreams from reality. It got to the point where she didn’t even recognize me anymore and when she did the situation was...less than ideal.”

Stiles took another sip of his water, hoping to assuage the sudden tightness in his throat. Derek’s hand found his under the table and he met his boyfriend’s eyes briefly, grateful for his comforting presence. He gave their joined hands a gentle squeeze before refocusing his attention on Laura, the tremor in his voice was obvious but he shouldered on, Laura needed to hear this, he needed her to understand.

“The final days of my mother’s life were miserable at best, she was immobile and barely able to speak, like a prisoner in her own body. It was sickening, this disease, this _plague_ that had befallen my mother sucked out every bit of life she had in her, and it didn’t stop until it bled her dry. My mother was the most beautiful soul I’d ever met and she didn’t deserve that, no one deserves to die such a death.”

Stiles eyes were tight around the corners and wet with unshed tears, the vibrant auburn seemed uncharacteristically dim in the harsh fluorescent lighting of the restaurant.  His free hand was gripping the edge of the table and the other, still in Derek’s grasp was faring the same.

“I know the doctors were trying, and I was grateful, we both were, my father and I, and please forgive me, its selfish, I know, but it just didn’t feel like enough. I think that it was then that I discovered true loneliness. My mother was my protector and confidant; I didn’t just want her there, lucid and with me, I needed her, instead I received frivolous promises and people who could only _try_ to bring her back to me. It was like a perpetual hell, I almost lost my fucking mind, a bought of self imposed insanity.”

Stiles mouth twisted into a grim bastardization of a smirk at the thought and he shook his head slightly as if to clear his thoughts, “As far as I was concerned if my mother couldn’t remember me, her _mały lis_ , then I didn’t need my sanity, and to be completely honest, I didn’t want it.”

Their appetizers were cleared away, the sounds of clinking silverware and dishes breaking up the fragility of the moment; Stiles was grateful for the respite, of all the possibilities that came to mind when he thought of meeting Laura this was furthest from his imagination. However, the proverbial dam had been broken and now that he’d started he wasn’t sure he could stop, it was verbal diarrhea of the highest order.

“My mother’s funeral was a spectacle, it seemed as though all of Beacon Hills had gathered to pay their respects. It was infuriating, my mother was gone, wrapped up in a wooden box and six feet under; no amount of well wishing and condolences were going to bring her back. I decided then that if none of the adults around me were going to be of any help then I would take matters into my own hands. From then on I threw myself into my studies; if I was gonna find a cure for FTD, half-assing and coasting by on B’s wasn't going to cut it.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mały lis means little fox in Polish. Thoughts on this chapter? I feel like you all like the one's that are heavier on the dialogue better. Un beta'd


	5. Babies & Buzzcuts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Midterms are done kicking my ass, once I'm done drowning my sorrows I will most likely update again sometime this weekend.  
> Hope you enjoy!  
> Oh and in case you guys haven't noticed, I decided to condense the first couple of chapters and I also added a chapter count, please let me know if anything went wonky or seems to be missing now that I've combined them.

“The party was in celebration of a contract our mom landed at work, so all of her coworkers are there, even her boss, who at that moment was toasting to mom.”

Derek groans and sinks down into his chair; he knows this story, and every time Laura tells it she manages to make it more and more embarrassing.

“He’s just about to announce my mom’s promotion to Senior VP and then the patio doors burst open and Derek runs out of the house, with Peter chasing after him, they’re both drenched, and Derek’s screaming about the Loch Ness with his pale little ass mooning all of our guests.”

Stiles bursts out laughing at ‘pale little ass’ and Derek glares daggers at his sister, Laura’s answering grin is saccharine sweet.

“ I think that’s the first and only time I’ve ever seen my mother blush, she was mortified,  naturally our dad thought it was hilarious, mom’s boss did too, he even tried to help dad catch Derek; the whole thing was a spectacle. Mom was downing glass after glass of champagne to cope  and three grown men were chasing a naked toddler around our backyard.”

Laura’s eyes are sparkling with unrestrained glee and her cheeks are flushed from forcing the story out in between gasps of laughter.

“After fifteen minutes, they finally managed to catch him, Uncle Peter tried to take him back inside to finish his bath but Derek wasn’t having it, he wouldn’t even let Dad put his jacket on him. At that point, all of the champagne was taking effect so mom was more than happy to let Derek flash his fleshy bits as he saw fit. Uncle Peter kept suggesting we send him off to a nudist colony.”

Stiles couldn’t breathe, every time he’d try to suck in a breath he’d start laughing, he could feel the tears gathering at the corners of his eyes and he was sure his face was tomato red.

“ Its’ easily in the top ten greatest Derek moments of all time, there’s a video somewhere, I’ll be sure to send it to you, Stiles.”

At that Derek straightens up in his chair, a smug smile stretching across his handsome face, “Hate to break it to you, Laur, but I destroyed that DVD during Cora’s sweet sixteen, so in fact, you won’t be sending Stiles a damn thing.”

Laura scoffs, unimpressed with her brother’s posturing, “Hate to break it to you, _Der_ , but I have copies. That’s right, copies with an ‘S’, multiples for our viewing pleasure.”

Derek wants nothing more than to punch his sister at this very moment. The high possibility of getting his ass kicked in front of his boyfriend is the only thing that stops him. Laura takes judo lessons every weekend, he’s seen her dislocate someone’s shoulder with her bare hands, she’d probably make him eat his own arm or something.

“Why do you insist upon torturing me?”

Laura pretends to mull over the question for a moment, “I like watching you squirm, little brother, your eyebrows do this thing where they converge in the middle, and your mouth gets all frowny, you look like grumpy cat.”

Stiles barks out a laugh at that, his mind flashing back to Isaac making the same comparison months ago.

A look of deep betrayal flashes across Derek’s face.

Stiles takes another sip of his water to calm himself down before turning to his boyfriend and cupping his jaw in his palm, “Aw, c’mon babe, you’ve gotta admit the idea of a baby Derek running around a fancy party butt ass naked is pretty hilarious, were your eyebrows just as… _expressive_ , back then or was that a puberty induced development?”

 Derek rolls his eyes and snaps his teeth at Stiles' fingers, grinning when the other man yelps in surprise, “Laugh it up, Stilinski, I distinctly recall Scott promising to bring a photo album to dinner next Tuesday, word on the street is someone used to have a buzz cut.”

Stiles stiffens, eyeing Derek accusingly, “Scotty would never!”

Derek smirks. _Jackpot_.

“You don’t have to take my word for it, you have his number, ask him.”

Stiles fingers twitch but he refuses to reach into his pocket, he won’t give Derek the satisfaction.   

This must be what the cat that caught the canary felt like, Derek is in heaven.

“Don’t let my brother scare you, Stiles, I’m sure you looked very handsome with your buzz cut, I bet you had dates lined up for miles.”

Stiles snorts inelegantly, turning to Laura with a brow raised, “Ah yes,  captain of both the debate and math team, regional chess champion and son of the town sheriff, all I needed was the buzz cut to cement my status as high school sex symbol.” He finished dryly.

Laura huffed out a laugh and reached across the table to give Stiles’ shoulder a squeeze, “Sounds plenty, sexy to me, Stiles.” The brunette winked in response, shifting his attention back to Derek when he feels the warmth of his boyfriend’s fingers on his skin.

Derek’s hand was now settled on the back of Stiles’ neck, with his thumb brushing over the brunette’s pulse as he spoke, “I’m gonna side with Lucifer on this one, baby, I bet you were the sexiest mathlete around. No contest.”

Stiles cheeks pinken under his boyfriend’s praise and he presses a quick kiss to Derek’s lips, rewarding him for being so sweet.

Derek deepens the kiss, relishing in his sister's mimed gagging in the background.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Laura is so much fun, especially her interactions with Derek.
> 
> Un'beta'd as per usual, feel free to point out any spelling/grammar mistakes you find, I'd be more than happy to fix em.
> 
> Kudos and comments make my world go round, especially comments, I could use some cheering up post-midterms.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	6. As sure as your name's Kate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Added some new tags, character and otherwise, the angst tags are gonna be put to use from here on out. Things are about to get really interesting.

“Isaac, can you pass the potatoes?” The blonde raised a brow, shaking his head in amusement before handing the bowl over to his left.

Stiles smiled in thanks, willfully ignoring the pout a certain brown haired, puppy-eyed boy was sending his way. Derek for his part chose not to comment on the exchange, instead, complimenting Isaac on the spread set out before him. He’d already had two servings of lamb and was eagerly awaiting his third.

“It’s my grandma’s recipe, Derek, I’ll email it to you when I get the chan-”

“Or I can bring it over Friday, right Stiles? I mean we’re still on for game night, right?” Scott cut in, tone hesitant but hopeful.

Stiles narrowed his eyes, letting out a huff of air before focusing his attention on his plate, “Maybe, I mean we head out on Saturday morning and I still have to pack.” Stiles felt a sharp pinch on his thigh and jumped in his seat, whipping his head around to glare at his boyfriend.

Derek’s eyebrows were converged at the center, his pink lips set into a frown, Stiles could feel his own lips pulling into a pout, he was rarely on the receiving end of this look, it was one Derek reserved for instances of pure unadulterated buffoonery.

And, okay, Stiles knew he was being a dick, a dick of the highest order, but goddamn it, Scotty had betrayed him. He was well within his rights to be a little childish.

Ignoring his boyfriend and his judgy eyebrows, Stiles refocused his sights on Scott, melting a little at the wounded look on his bestfriend’s face.

Scott was breaking out the big guns, the bastard.

“C’mon, Stiles! You’re already packed, you’ve been packed since Monday, I was there!”

Stiles sputtered in response, face heating up, “Goddamnit, Scott! You showed him the buzzcut pictures! Buzzcut, Scotty! Head shaved long lanky limbed, awkward, gangly buzzcut! _Buzz-C-U-T!_ ”

Stiles voice broke off into a whine, and he sunk low in his seat, murmuring buzzcut repeatedly under his breath.

Derek rolled his eyes at the display and looked skyward, asking for strength, all he wanted was the damn recipe.

“In Scott’s defense, you’re still awkward and long limbed, Stilinski, you just dress better.” Isaac fixed Stiles with a look that dared him to disagree before ducking out of the way when a dinner roll sailed toward his head in response.

“I said I was sorry, Stiles! I didn’t want to do it! He forced me! You’ve seen Derek! He eyebrow’d me into it! He’s scary, Stiles, he can snap me in half!” Scott was nearing hysterics and Stiles could feel his lips stretching into a smirk.

Derek grinned in response, all teeth, cracking his knuckles for show.

Stiles scoffed at the action, punching his boyfriend’s shoulder, “Believe me, Scotty, its all an act, Derek _cried_ during the Lion King.”

“ _Stiles_!”

The brunette ignores his boyfriend’s hissing, patting his arm in sympathy.

“It’s okay, Der, I cried too, everyone cries.”

“So we’re bros again, right?” Stiles eyes softened and he reached across the table, rubbing his palm along Scott’s cheek, leaving a trail of smeared mashed potatoes in his wake,

“We’re bros forever, Scotty boy, besides, I still have a certain video of you on my phone that I’m sure Isaac would love to see.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Ten more minutes, Der.” Stiles groans from his spot on the center of their bed. He’s wrapped up in the comforter, cocooned in warmth and doing his best to block out the sunlight streaming in through the blinds.

Derek huffs out a laugh, smiling fondly down at his boyfriend, he’s been up for hours, loading their bags into the car and getting gas, cleaning; anything to grant Stiles a few more moments of sleep.

“C’mon, baby, you’ve gotta get up, if I let you sleep in anymore we’ll be late and my mom’s expecting us for lunch.”

Stiles snuffles in response and wraps the blankets tighter around himself.

With a sigh, Derek kicks off his shoes and crawls into their bed, laying his body on top of Stiles’; he unwraps the blankets from around his boyfriend and re-arranges the quilts to cover both of their bodies.

Derek brackets his arms on the sides of Stiles’ head, boxing him and settling his weight pleasurably on top of the younger man.

Stiles reaches a hand out to bury his fingers in Derek’s hair, massaging his scalp lightly, “Hey.”

Kaleidoscope eyes dance along the planes of Stiles’ face, committing every mole and freckle to memory, when he speaks; Derek’s voice is soft and immeasurably fond, “Hey.”

Stiles’ eyes crinkle at the corners and he smiles warmly, face illuminated from within, before pressing a kiss to the tip of his lover’s nose,

“Alright,” he says, sighing for dramatic effect, “Help me up, you promised me coffee.”

* * *

 

 

Thirty minutes later, the pair are bidding their shared apartment farewell and hitting the road.

Stiles tries to settle into the passenger seat, shifting every few seconds before giving up on the idea that he’ll ever be fully comfortable.

A two hour drive separates him from their hometown, their friends and family, specifically, Derek’s parents; his mom and dad, the people responsible for creating the man that Stiles is starting to think he’ll spend the rest of his life with.

His nerves are shot; _Did I get into Berkley?, SAT scores are in, What do you mean my dad had a heart attack? :_  Shot .

“Stiles, I can hear you thinking, it’s giving me wrinkles.”

Derek spares Stiles a brief glance, reaching across the console to hold his hand, he brings their joined hands toward his lips and brushes a kiss across the brunette’s knuckles, letting his lips linger for a moment.

Stiles offers his boyfriend a weak smile in response, knowing it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “Can’t help it, M’nervous.”

“Baby, listen, there’s nothing to be nervous about, my folks are gonna love you, _I_ love you, you make me happy and that makes them happy, on top of that, you’re smart, funny, beautiful, and you’ve got Laura’s seal of approval, I’m surprised they haven’t tried to get us up here sooner. Just try to, relax, okay? I’ll be there with you, no matter what happens, at the end of this week you and I are going home together, family be damned.”

By the end of Derek’s speech Stiles fears have been quieted a bit, he’s stopped fidgeting and he’s not as nauseous as he was when they first left. He breathes out a quiet, "Love you." and strokes Derek's pulse point in thanks.

Industrial grey and jagged architecture morphs into lush greenery, white siding, and colonial brick; the air regains the lightness lost to the smog and bustle of the city and soon enough the ‘Welcome to Beacon Hills’ sign comes into view. Now that they’re about thirty minutes away from Derek’s childhood home, the pep talk from earlier is rendered useless and Stiles is once again plagued by his worries.

In what seems like seconds, the car slows down to residential speed and begins its drive up the winding path to the Hale estate.

Derek parks the Camaro behind Laura’s Mustang and switches off the engine, he can sense Stiles panicking again and unbuckles his seat belt.

He gathers Stiles’ face in his hands and brings their lips together in a slow, sensuous kiss.

Stiles relaxes into the massaging of lips with a sigh, tilting his head to allow Derek to deepen the kiss, all prior thought disappears and his whole being is consumed by Derek; the feel of his hand settling on the nape of his neck, the woodsy musk and spice of his cologne, and the persistent caress of his tongue sliding along his bottom lip.

Derek’s tongue coaxes its way into Stiles mouth, massaging and claiming every inch; Stiles responds with fervor and reaches up to tug lightly on Derek’s hair, relishing in the low growl he receives in response.

 Derek continues his ministrations for a few seconds more before pulling back, softly biting Stiles’ bottom lip before they part completely.

“Ready?” Derek’s voice is raw, his breathing shallow, labored by their kissing. A tingling warmth settles at the base of Stiles’ spine and he resists the urge to launch across the console and climb into Derek’s lap.

He settles for pressing a kiss to the corner of his lover’s mouth.

“As I’ll ever be.”

Fingers entwined, the couple travel the quick distance to the front door; both thrumming with nerves, they pause briefly to share another calming caress of lips.

Derek rings the bell, bracing for impact as he waits for his mother or Laura to greet them.

The door swings open and he's immediately hit with the scent of home and his father's fresh baked cookies.

Seconds later, his grinning face shifts into a shadowed mask and his jaw unhinges at the sight before him.

Smirking, the woman steps out onto the porch, arms outstretched, she ignores Stiles for the moment, focusing all of her attention on Derek. Still in shock, the older man seems frozen in space, unable to meet his boyfriend’s worried gaze.

“Derek we’ve missed you.”

When Derek makes no motion to return her hug, the blonde pouts, shrugging slightly before rolling her eyes.

She turns her attention to Stiles, still confused by his boyfriend’s sudden change in mood.

“Stiles, is it?” Her voice is saccharine sweet and for a moment Stiles fears his balls will shrivel up into his body, never to be seen again.

The brunette offers her a nod, ignoring the tension and doing his best to offer a smile, the last thing he needs is to insult one of Derek’s sisters.

He’s wondering if she takes more after her father in the looks department, (he’s seen Talia, Derek and Laura are her splitting image), when the woman interrupts his thoughts to further introduce herself.

“I’m Kate, Derek must’ve told you all about me.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well ain't that some shit? And along came Kate. Fair warning, Beacon Hills is a small town, Kate is only the beginning.  
> Un'beta'd as per usual, feel free to point out any spelling/grammar mistakes you find, I'd be more than happy to fix em.  
> Comments, kudos, and subscriptions are much appreciated! I look forward to hearing from you all!


	7. Family Bonding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, listen I almost cried my computer wouldn't start up and I thought I lost everything like I was this close to a panic attack but its all good now, I hope. Second update in two days, I'm on a roll, this comes out to about seven pages in Word, enjoy! Things are starting to get real.

The corner of Stiles’ mouth twitches like it wants to tug into a frown, but he refrains, quirking a brow at his boyfriend in question before accepting Kate’s outstretched hand in a firm shake.

Derek hasn’t actually, mentioned Kate at all, least of all told Stiles all about her. He’s guessing that maybe they aren’t particularly close; after all, he’s always assumed that Derek and Laura were the closest out of all their siblings, Derek's stilted interactions with Kate seem to be proving his theory.

Before he can delve into those thoughts any further a familiar voice is screaming his name and he’s got about ten seconds to lock his knees in place before he’s got an arm full of tan-skinned, raven haired, human. Laura nuzzles her head into the crook of his neck briefly, before hopping out of his arms, blue-green eyes sparkling with mischief.

Stiles grins at his boyfriend’s sister and pulls her in for another embrace, pressing a kiss to her cheek before settling on wrapping his arm her shoulders.

Laura leads him into the house, sparing a worried glance at Kate and Derek’s heated exchange behind them before picking up her pace and guiding Stiles out into the back patio.

“How was the drive, up?” Stiles shrugs, feigning indifference before Laura pins him with a look, eyes all knowing and kind; he groans before choosing to duck his head down onto her shoulder, “I spent half of it panicking, what if they don’t like me, Laur?”

Laura huffs out a breath, shaking her head in disbelief, “None of that, Stilinski, Derek’s been waxing poetic about you for going on to a year now, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Her mouth twists at the corner and she ducks down to murmur in his ear, “Besides, considering the competition, you’ve got this in the bag.”

Before he can ask her what she means by that, they’ve arrived onto the back patio. There’s a long oak table set up in the middle beneath a canopy, there are enough chairs to fit fifteen people, easily, and a trail of candles lines the table from head to end.

To his left, Stiles takes in a man who appears to be about his father’s age, hovering over a grill and whistling to himself. When he turns around Stiles is hit with salt and pepper hair and a pair of strikingly familiar eyes. _That must be Derek’s dad_ , his mind supplies. The man offers up a warm smile and a wave; Stiles returns it gratefully, warmth settling over him at the easiness of the exchange.

Brown eyes take in the rest of the scene before him, there’s a group of toddlers in the garden, swarming around a teen girl with long brown hair and hazel eyes, she looks over in Stiles’ direction and smiles softly. Stiles offers a brief wave, racking his brain for a name, he knows Derek has two younger sisters, so that’s either Cora or Addelaine.

Laura tugs on his arm and begins leading him over to an arrangement of refreshments adjacent from the dining table, a woman is pouring lemonade from a pitcher into crystal glasses and when she looks up upon their approach Stiles breath catches in his throat, _Talia_.

Before he can force out a greeting, Derek’s mother is making her way around the table and pulling him into her arms. Her grip is tight but soothing and as he relaxes into the hug waves of jasmine and vanilla wash over him, when Talia pulls back her grin is wide and warm, Stiles feels a surge of affection wash over him.

Aside from the hazel of her eyes, Derek is Talia’s splitting image; Stiles heart clenches briefly at the connection and he finds himself scanning his surroundings for Derek involuntarily. The incident on the porch hasn’t been forgotten and Laura’s comment is still ringing in his ears, he can’t help but think that he’s being left in the dark about something.

“Stiles, my dear, that son of mine definitely did not exaggerate; you’re quite handsome, such cute beauty marks.” The tips of his ears heat up in response to Talia’s praise and he stumbles out his thanks, tacking a ma’am on the end, respectfully.

Talia barks out a laugh, settling a hand on his shoulder reassuringly, “None of that, lamb, we’re family now, Talia is fine, we’ll save the ma’am for when you and Derek give me some grandkids.”

Stiles sputters, he can feel the warmth settling across his cheeks and he eyes Laura imploringly. Laura rolls her eyes at her mother, pulling Stiles closer to her and freeing him from her mother’s mischief.

“Cut it out, mom, you’ll give him a heart attack, I don’t think Derek would appreciate you teasing his boyfriend.” Talia graces her daughter with an eye roll of her own, managing to make the gesture look elegant before she reaches out to pat Stiles’ cheek affectionately, “Don’t mind me, dear, I’m only jesting, besides the kids come after you and Derek get married.”

Laura groans but Talia ignores her, soldiering on, eyes scanning the patio, “Speaking of, where is my pride and joy?” Laura opens her mouth to respond but is cut off when the man in question storms out into the yard, moments later Kate trails in after him accompanied by a blue eyed man whose arm is wrapped firmly around her waist.

Laura lets out another groan, louder this time, but quiets when Talia turns a disapproving frown her way, the younger girl huffs, silencing her protests for the time being. “I see Peter’s invited Kate.” The frown hasn’t slipped from Talia’s face and Stiles can hear the exasperation in her voice.

Stiles is trying to formulate a way to politely ask why Talia wouldn’t invite her own daughter to lunch when Derek appears by his side. The older man sidles up to his boyfriend, pressing a kiss beneath his ear and murmuring a soft apology before pulling back, Stiles eyes him with a look that clearly states they’ll be talking about this later before caressing his cheek with his thumb, _apology accepted_.

Talia and Laura look on in the background, sharing smiles at the love and adoration displayed before them. Talia lets out a cough and Derek pulls his gaze away from his boyfriend, rushing over to his mother’s arms.

Talia lets out a soft laugh and allows her son to pick her up off the ground, patting his back when he tries to spin her around, “I’ve missed you, too, sweetheart.”

Derek sets his mother back on the ground, bending slightly so she can press a kiss to his forehead, “Its good to be back, mama.”

Derek turns his attention back to Stiles and pulls him closer, connecting their hands, “I see you’ve met Stiles.”

Talia offers her son’s partner a wink, “I most definitely have, I’m trying to figure out why you haven’t proposed yet, any longer and I’ll have to snatch him up myself.”

Derek scoffs, pressing a possessive kiss to the side of Stiles’ head, “I don’t think you’re his type.” He responds, dryly.

His mother’s lips twist into a smirk, laughing gleefully when Stiles twists out of Derek’s grasp to wrap his arm around her shoulder, “See Derek, I’m everyone’s type.”

Laura’s face sours at the turn in conversation and she hastily makes her retreat, “Dad! Mom’s trying to start a harem again!”

Their father, Erik, shakes his head, eyes sparkling with mirth, he’s clearly well accustomed to his wife’s antics, “Let’s put the polygamous exploits on hold, dear, lunch is ready.”

Talia shrugs and pinches Stiles’ cheek in parting, the younger man grins in response, sending a playful wink her way.

Before he can get out a teasing remark, his world view is tilted and he’s face to face with Derek’s denim covered backside. The elder of the two hitches Stiles up higher on perch strewn across his right shoulder and smacks his boyfriend’s ass in retaliation.

Stiles lets out a yelp of surprise which becomes a squeal when Derek runs across the yard to the dining table, leading Stiles to grip on to his boyfriend’s Henley for dear life.

* * *

 

Well this is awkward.

Stiles eyes Laura from across the table, silently conveying, _what the actual fuck?_

Laura shakes her head in response, stuffing her mouth with more salad, as if her vigorous chewing will somehow lessen the tension at the table.

From his spot at Stiles' side, Derek seems to be following in his sister’s footsteps, aggressively shoving green beans in his mouth, only pausing to take a sip of lemonade.

Stiles wants to scream.

Things had been going great when they all assembled around the table, Erik thanked Stiles for joining them, welcoming him to the family and even allowing him first dibs on the grilled venison.

Dishes were passed around, hearty portions served and they all settled into easy conversation, Stiles learned that the girl in the garden earlier was Cora, the older of Derek's two little sisters, their youngest sister Addelaine was attending an SAT prep class but promised to be back in time for dinner. According to Cora she’s dying to know if Stiles is as cute as Derek made him out to be; that seems to be a running theme in the Hale house.

It was about twenty minutes in when everything went to shit.

Peter, the blue eyed man from earlier, who Stiles now knows as _Uncle_ Peter, Talia’s brother, tapped his glass with his fork and stood from his chair, clearly preparing to make a speech. Stiles and Cora paused their conversation for the time being and respectfully shifted their attention to the older man.

“As I’m sure you all know, Kate and I have been seeing each-other for quite some time now, we didn’t expect things to end up as they did but love works in mysterious ways.” If Stiles didn’t know any better he’d say Peter sounded a bit guilty (By now, Stiles had already worked out that Kate was of no relation to the Hales so clearly this wasn’t some big incestuous revelation), for what he had not a clue.

Peter offered up a weak smile and reached down to grasp Kate’s hand in his, “Kate and I are expecting, we don’t know the sex yet but the little one should be here in December, looks like we’ll have another Christmas baby on our hands, right, Derek?”

Every pair of eyes present turned to Derek and if possible his boyfriend’s posture tightened even further, Stiles found his hand under the table and gave it a comforting squeeze.

Derek let out a gruff, “Right…” and returned his attention to his plate, an uncomfortable silence settling across the table shortly after.

This was bad, Stiles was sure he could hear his own heart hammering in his chest. Just he was about to fake a sudden heart attack, Talia’s voice cut into the silence, wishing the happy couple well and promising to spoil her new niece or nephew rotten.

That was about five minutes ago, presently, the table had returned to a deathly silence, cutlery and dishware coming in to disrupt the awkwardness every few moments.

Stiles spared a glance at Peter and winced at the sight, his head was bowed slightly and his jaw was clenched, he looked ready to snap at any given moment.

Stiles quickly averted his eyes; he’d rather not be on the receiving end of that blow up. He shifted his attention toward Kate, whom, surprisingly, seemed immune to her surroundings, Stiles narrowed his eyes in examination, as a matter of fact she almost seemed happy? _Smug_ even.

Before he could further examine the blonde, the sound of silverware clattering on top of the table caught his attention. Stiles looked toward the source of the disruption, sucking in a breath when he locked eyes on Peter.

Peter’s gaze was murderous and for second Stiles froze, trying to figure out why that rage was seemingly being directed toward him. Had Peter noticed him staring earlier? Perhaps he didn’t like Stiles ogling his pregnant girlfriend?

He was just about to offer up an apology when he caught sight of Derek leaning forward from the corner of his eye. Peter mirrored his nephew’s response, a snarl twisting his lips, “How long are you gonna keep punishing her, Derek?”

Wait.  What.

Derek scoffed, dismissing Peter with a flick of his wrist, “I’d have to know what the fuck you were talking about in order to answer that, Uncle.”

Talia gasped out an admonishing “ _Derek_!” from her spot at the end of the table but before she could get out anything else Peter’s voice cut in, venom dripping from every word, “I was trying to be mature, I really didn’t want to embarrass you in front of your precious _Stiles_ , but allow me to jog your memory, _Nephew_.”

Suddenly, Stiles feels likes he’s intruding. This is family business, something private and clearly delicate, he feels dirty and nauseous, it’s disturbingly voyeuristic and he wants nothing more than to disappear in this very moment. He glances around the table briefly and can’t help but think that the Hales would agree with his sentiments.

At the head of the table Erik’s pale eyes are shadowed with rage, his grip on the table is bruising; Stiles is sure there’ll be a dent there this time tomorrow. Talia’s face is cast in white, worry lines that seemed to have popped up from nowhere and for the first time since he’s been here Stiles thinks that she actually looks her age.

Kate has taken to try to calm down her partner, a placating hand on his arm, Stiles can hear her murmuring something about stressing out the baby but Peter ignores her, a man on a mission, “I’m talking about you being a complete and utter fucking brat. I’m talking about you rejecting Kate’s hospitality every chance you get, I’m talking about you actively sabotaging my one chance at happiness. Is that what this is Derek? Are you so petty? So hung up and _jealous_ , that you can’t allow your uncle to be happy? Talk about fucking selfish.”

Derek’s outraged growl is bordering on inhuman and for a second Stiles fears his boyfriend is going to lunge across the table and cause Peter bodily harm, instead he suddenly stills causing the hairs on the back of Stiles' neck to stick up straight in response.

 Derek has never scared Stiles, frustrated him, worried him, yes, but never in their entire year of dating has he ever invoked fear in him. For it to happen like this, in front of Derek’s family, is nauseating; his worst nightmare come to life.

“Allow me to _jog your fucking memory_ , Uncle-”

 “Derek,” Laura cuts in, eyes wide and wet with unshed tears, “Don’t do this.”

Derek doesn’t even blink, ignoring his sister completely, he continues his speech,

“Let’s flashback six years, back when I met Kate, we remember that right? She sat at this same table, only she was on my arm and not yours. She sat there, ate our fucking food, laughed it up with dad and told mom she couldn’t wait to marry me.”

 Derek lets out a bitter laugh at the memory, “I can’t believe I was so fucking stupid, but hey, I was in love, right? I saw the way you two looked at each other, the way you touched each other when you thought no one was looking.”

Derek’s out of his seat at this point, chest heaving in anger, hands clenched into fists at his side, “I ignored it, Kate’s just being friendly, I said, she would never do that to me, _Peter_ would never do that to me.”

A hysterical laugh bubbles up out of Derek’s throat and Stiles blood runs cold. Why is no one stopping this? Why isn’t _he_ stopping this?

“I couldn’t have been more fucking wrong. Its dinner time, I had Cleo on my lap and she was telling me all about her trip to the Seaquarium, she’s giving me all these facts on Orcas when I notice that Kate isn’t by my side anymore. Peter’s missing too but I ignore it, he’s never been big on family dinner anyway.”

Stiles knows where this story is going, he’s been in Derek’s shoes before, knows how damaging that is, and in that instant he’d like nothing more than to wrap his hands around Peter’s throat and squeeze.

 _Tight_.

“I excuse myself from Cleo and make my way inside, I’m calling Kate’s name and she’s not answering, she always answers, so I’m searching through the house, pulling open doors and calling her phone, I make it to the linen closet and I hear Kate’s ringtone, I’m panicking now because I can feel it, I know what the fuck is gonna happen when I open that door. Everything in me is telling me to leave, to turn back around and pretend nothing ever happened.”

By this point Kate has her head in her hands and Peter’s sunken down into his seat, he looks wrecked and for a second a vindictive glee seizes Stiles, he delights in their suffering.

“But you know what, I have to know, I have to be sure. I open the door and I’m sure you can guess what I found, there she was, the woman who I thought was the love of my life, my fucking _fiancé_ ," Derek spits out the word like the taste of it is bitter in his mouth. "-On her fucking knees for my uncle. Some fucking family dinner that turned out to be.”

At the end of his speech Derek storms back inside, knocking his glass over in his haste. Stiles curses softly, righting the glass before sparing a glance around the table.

The Hales are in varying states of grief and disbelief, Derek’s father’s mouth is a grim line, but his mother’s eyes are dark and wide in shock, a horrifying realization dawns upon him and Stiles finally understands the full gravity of the situation.

 _She didn’t know_.

All that time Talia had no idea that Peter, her own brother, was tangled up in her son’s disengagement.

That sick feeling settles over Stiles again and he quickly excuses himself, fumbling out a half-hearted excuse about checking on Derek.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't you just love family get-togethers?
> 
> Thoughts?
> 
> Un'beta'd as per usual, feel free to point out any spelling/grammar mistakes you find, I'd be more than happy to fix em.  
> Comments, kudos, and subscriptions are much appreciated!


	8. Ghosts of Beverly Drive

Stiles finds him pressed up against the side of the Camaro.

Derek’s body is folded in half, his knees tucked to his chest, blocking his view of the outside world.

He’s shaking, Stiles realizes as he steps closer, _crying_ , his mind supplies unhelpfully.

From this angle, Derek looks impossibly small, there’s a fragility present that he’d never applied to Derek. Its laughable in a way, Derek, like he is, is human. Falls victim to despair and insecurity like everyone else. Stiles knows that. He knows that this man, the man he’d give anything to, is no more impervious to sadness than he is.

The thing is, this is _Derek_ ; the same Derek who’s always the one to hold Stiles when he’s crying, Stiles’ lighthouse, his proverbial beacon in the fog.  This is his love, his confidant, his greatest friend; this is staying up ‘till dawn, wrapping him in warmth, replacing thoughts of being less than with promises of love and loyalty.

It strikes him suddenly, how utterly and hopelessly in love he is with this man, how he’d do anything, give anything, to take away what he’s feeling right now, Derek doesn’t deserve to feel like this, not ever, as far as Stiles is concerned.

He deserves chocolate chip pancakes on Sunday morning, he deserves Stiles hogging all the blankets, wrapped around him and stroking his hair, he deserves waking up in the middle of the night to talk their kids down from a nightmare. Not _this_.

Not sitting in the driveway of his childhood home, wrung out and miserable; Derek deserves to be taken care of, and Stiles is going to do just that; _and more_ , his mind supplies, helpful for once.

Derek’s crying has long since stopped being audible, his body is no longer shaking, he’s eerily still, a corpse comes to mind; chills travel up Stiles’ spine and he shakes them off, now is not the time to be timid, he has to be strong, _for Derek_.

“Derek? I’m gonna come down there, okay? I just wanna see you, I need you to look at me, Der, please.”

Stiles doesn’t expect an answer, he doesn’t expect anything at all from Derek in this moment.

Mindful of his steps, he settles in front of Derek, mirroring his position so that their knees are pressed together. He stills for a few moments, gifting Derek with a few more moments of silence as he tries to figure out how to proceed.

He doesn’t know how long they have before Laura or Talia come looking, and he wants Derek to have this opportunity to grieve, free of familial constraint or expectation. Derek is as self-sacrificing as they come and he knows that if his mother or sister were to come out here he’d force himself to go back in there and apologize to Peter, or even worse _Kate_. Derek doesn’t owe them anything, he also doesn’t owe Stiles anything, not in this context, meaning here, with him, is the best chance Derek has of dealing with this cluster fuck, _outside of a trained professional_ , there’s his mind again, back to being frustratingly unhelpful.

Stiles takes in a breath, and counts to three before spurring into action.

Carefully, as if dealing with fragile glass, he slides his fingers up and around Derek’s arms, trailing across his shoulders before settling against the back of his neck. Stiles plays with the hairs at the nape of his neck, midnight black strands soft and silky in his grasp.

His voice is warped as he speaks, clogged up with emotion, sounding foreign even to his own ears, but he continues on, grounding himself by breathing in Derek’s scent; _home_.

“When I was eighteen, I thought I was in love. His name was Danny, we grew up together, went to school together, had all of our firsts, _together_. Everyone thought we were going to get married, white picket fence, a couple of kids, Lydia even promised to plan our wedding.”

Derek’s head was now lifted from its hiding spot, eyes glassy and inquisitive, this is the first time Stiles has mentioned Danny, he wasn’t hiding it, he was an open book when it came to Derek, but it just hadn’t ever come up, and he really didn’t want that kind of energy having any influence on his current relationship; today’s events of course changed that, it was important that Derek knew that it wasn’t about him. It wasn’t a matter of Derek not being good enough, people cheated because they wanted to, simple as that.

“We were about two semesters into our freshman year and going the long distance route, Danny like myself had gotten a full ride to Stanford, his however being for computer engineering, everyone assumed that we’d go off to college together, continue the epic saga, but honestly the thought hadn’t even crossed my mind, my mother went to Berkley, she’d always talk about taking me on a tour of her old dorm and rave about her old professors, Berkley would always be my first choice and Danny understood that, he even gave me a promise ring, he said he wanted me to know that distance wouldn’t change how he felt about me.”

Derek’s limbs are looser now, unconstrained by his grief, relaxed against Stiles’, easily maneuverable. Stiles pauses his speech, switching from in front of Derek to beside him, he gathers Derek in his arms, guiding the older man’s head to his shoulder, his fingers reassume their position on Derek’s nape, stroking softly; Stiles wants there to be no confusion, this moment is about comforting Derek, no matter what is coming out of Stiles’ mouth; they’ll have time to tackle his demons later.

“Toward the end of the semester things started to shift, we stopped talking on the phone as often, I’d call and he’d ignore it and text me back hours later, claiming a dead battery or study session. Visits also tempered out, he was constantly “busy” and when he did offer he’d do so on days he knew I was stuck in class or at work. He stopped calling me babe too, it was always Stiles, no affection, no endearment, I felt like I was being punished for something. Logically, I knew what the fuck was going on but I didn’t want to believe it. Berkley’s finals week is always the week before Standford’s, I finished mine early so I decided to take a trip up to Danny and surprise him.”

Stiles’ fingers tighten at the memory and he presses an apologetic kiss to Derek’s head, rubbing the spot where he gripped too tightly.

“I’m sure you can fill in the blanks as to what I saw when I got there, he was balls deep in his roommate in case you need a stronger visual, he didn’t even look ashamed, he just looked sad, pitying almost, I slammed the door and hauled it back to my car. I haven’t spoken to him since.”

Stiles finally looks at Derek, searching his eyes for a hint of understanding, “I didn’t tell you this because I feel sorry for you, I’m sorry that happened to you, and if I’m honest I’d love to skin Peter alive and turn him into a pair of boots.”

Derek huffed out a laugh, and pressed his head against Stiles’ shoulder once more, “I’m telling you this because I want you to know that I know how it feels, I know what its like to go to bed with your whole life planned out and wake up wishing you hadn’t, I want you to know that it wasn’t your fault, they made a selfish reckless ugly mess of a situation and you had to suffer for it, its not fair and nothing you did or didn’t do would have stopped it, it wasn’t you, Der, you are not responsible for people choosing to hurt you.”

Stiles coaxes Derek’s head off his shoulder gently and takes his face in his hands, Derek’s stubble is thicker at the moment, the beginnings of a full beard, a surge of attraction thrums inside of him at the revelation but he tempers it for now, there’ll be more than enough time for that later, “I’m telling you this because I want you to know that I’ll never do that to you, I can’t promise you that I’ll never hurt you, to some degree or another that’s inevitable, but I can promise that I will never intentionally hurt you, I’ll never abuse your trust in that way, I know what that feels like Derek, I couldn’t live with myself if I knew I was responsible for doing that to you.”

Derek’s silent for a moment, eyes locked with Stiles’, he seems to be searching for something, so Stiles waits, lax and patient, pouring every bit of adoration and honesty he contains into his gaze. Derek must find what he’s looking for because his lips stretch into a smile, soft and private, the smile he reserves for Stiles and Stiles alone.

Stiles can’t help himself, he presses their lips together, Derek’s head still cradled in his hands, they pull back before the kiss deepens, aware of their ever present location in the Hale’s driveway. Derek presses a kiss to the back of Stiles’ hands before taking them in his own and guiding the younger man to his feet.

Both parties brush off their clothes half-heartedly, resigned to the fact that an outfit change is in their near future.

“Ready to head back inside?” Derek nods and Stiles sets off toward the house, pausing when Derek’s arms wrap around him from behind.

Derek’s breath ghosts across his ear, stubble scratching across his sensitive skin, Derek presses a quick kiss to his favorite mole, on the tip of Stiles’ ear, “Thank you.” He breathes out, whisper soft, like a secret.

Stiles grins, turning around to face him, he nuzzles against Derek’s jaw _, you’re welcome_.

* * *

 

Peter comes stumbling out of the house moments later, clutching his nose, a stream of blood gliding across his fingers and wrapping itself around his wrist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder what happened to Peter?
> 
> Hopefully the addition of Danny gave a little insight on why Stiles processes things the way he does 
> 
> Keep an eye on Kate, she'll be back, a few other exes may be making an appearance as well, but we'll just wait and see ;)
> 
> Un'beta'd as always, let me know if anything is super wonky and I'll fix it
> 
> Comments and kudos always appreciated!


	9. Kiss with a Fist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to back updates, because I love you all. Here we have a little reprieve from the angst, but don't worry, it'll be back ;)
> 
> I revised the hell out of the first chapter, I played with the characterization so it matched up better, it feels more cohesive now, I'll be going back and revising as the fic goes on.
> 
> Comments and kudos are much appreciated, comments especially, I have the whole thing fleshed out but I'd really love to hear from you all, I'm also thinking maybe I should get a Beta? I'd be glad to hear/take some offers.
> 
> Enjoy!

Stiles can’t help it.

A snicker bubbles up and out of his throat, giddy and amplifying until it crescendos into full blown laughter; spiteful and sickly sweet.

Derek, forever unaffected, remains seemingly neutral, schooling his face into a mask of indifference.

“Uncle, are you alright?” And there it is.

Derek finally cracks, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smirk, his eyes are sparkling; ocean blue and speckled with mischief.

Peter glares at his nephew, pulling his hands away from his face to growl out his displeasure. He is very obviously _not_ alright, _fuck you very much_ , Derek.

Laura stumbles into view moments later; her cheeks are flushed and her hair seems to be dancing across her shoulders, Stiles suspects the heaving of her chest has something to do with that.

_Oh this is just rich._

Everything clicks and suddenly Stiles is launched into raucous laughter once more, he almost can’t believe it but then again this is Laura Hale he’s talking about.

Derek turns to Stiles, elegant brow arched, as if to say, _please share with the class_ or maybe, _I can’t believe this is the idiot I’m in love with_. Knowing Derek, it’s probably a combination of both.

Stiles wheezes out a final squawking laugh before checking the corners of his eyes for tears, this situation is priceless.

When he’s finally settled he points an accusing finger at Laura, beaming when she scowls at him, “You punched him, didn’t you, Laur? You broke Peter’s nose!”

Derek gapes at his sister, sputtering in pride and disbelief, “ _Laura_ …”

The eldest Hale shrugs, pleased with her brother’s reaction, “I couldn’t hold it in anymore, Derek, I’ve been wanting to do that since you first told me what happened.”

If possible, Derek’s brows travel even further up into his hairline, for a moment Stiles worries that they’ll disappear completely, “But, mom-”

Laura huffs, flapping a hand dismissively at Derek’s statement, “ _Mom_ , is absolutely pissed at Peter and Kate, she didn’t even frown when I punched him.”

Peter lets out a disgruntled whine as if to say, _hey, still here, still bleeding, you dickheads_.

Laura ignores him and continues speaking.

“I mean really, Der, you seriously couldn’t have thought that we’d side with Creepy Pete on this one?”

Derek ducks his head, suddenly bashful, and yes, the nervous, nagging part of his mind really did think that they’d side with Peter over him.

Laura lets out a long suffering sigh, unimpressed with her brother’s response.

“You really are an idiot aren’t you? At least you’re our idiot, we love you, doofus.”

Of course, Peter chooses to break the moment.

“Not that this isn’t completely touching, but I do believe that _someone_ , is supposed to be taking me to get this patched up.” Laura scoffs, disbelief clouding her features.

“You honestly didn’t think you’d get off that easy did you? Bite me, Peter, you can have Kate take you, and when you’re done, don’t come back, mom doesn’t even want to look at you right now.”

Stiles blows a kiss at Peter and grins, delighted by the bloodied one finger salute he receives in response.

 

* * *

 

When they return to the back patio, Kate is absent; the table has been cleared and everyone is scattered across the expansive back yard, clutching glasses of lemonade or digging into bountiful sundaes.

Talia is the first to notice them and she quickly gathers Derek into her arms, pressing a kiss to the side of his head and murmuring low into his ear, Stiles manages to make out faint apologies and promises to talk in depth when their extended family have parted. Her tone is regretful and beseeching; it warms Stiles, knowing that his boyfriend’s family only have his happiness in mind.

A hand on his shoulder pulls him away from the scene and he turns around to find Erik behind him, gesturing for Stiles to follow him toward the garden.

Oh, hello nerves, pleasure to see you again.

* * *

 

Derek’s father is intimidating to say the least, he’s not overly aggressive or surly, but his presence commands respect; Stiles would prefer to stay on his good side.

Before Stiles can work himself into a panic, Erik speaks, effectively stalling any gibberish that would escape his mouth.

“I always knew,” Stiles raises a brow, nose scrunching up in confusion, but before he can ask for clarification Erik continues,

 “I knew there was something _off_ about the way Derek and Kate ended, I asked him once, the week after it happened, he was helping me clear out the attic, and he was just so distant, Derek’s my baby, my boy, I know when something's wrong,  I wanted to help him.”

Erik runs a hand through his hair, at this proximity Stiles can make out flecks of grey and strands of white, “He wouldn’t budge, said he didn’t want to talk about it, so I didn’t push, Derek may be his mother’s twin but I’d like to think he got my eyes for a reason, we have an understanding. Inside, he’s all me, so I figured he’d come to me when he was ready, he always did when he was younger.”

Stiles can see it, he can see the connection; he saw it in the way Erik immediately welcomed him in, in the restrained rage he showed at the table earlier, he could see it now, with this speech, like his son he was always protecting, always wanting people to understand, open and honest behind a veneer of apathy and sarcasm.

“We both know how bright you are, Stiles, so I’m sure that I’ll only have to say this once for you to understand. If your intentions with my son are anything short of making him feel happy and loved, my advice would be for you to leave our home immediately, I’d be more than willing to call an Uber.”

Stiles face flushes, blood hot and whirling in his ears; he knows that this is Derek’s father, and recalls his earlier sentiment about wanting to stay on his good side but he refuses to let _anyone_ stand in front of him and question his love for Derek, he isn’t Kate and he won’t tolerate being punished for her transgressions.

“With all due respect, Mr. Hale, that won’t be necessary. I can go on about my love for Derek, I can wax poetic about how I think the sun shines out of his ass, and how I can’t wait for us to settle down and have kids. That’s what Kate did, right? She stood there and lied to your face, and you’d known her for far longer than you’ve known me, so I’m not even gonna bother. I’m not gonna string together pretty words and soliloquies, like you said, I’m bright.”

Erik’s arms are crossed against his chest now, his expression is stern but open in a way that doesn’t have Stiles fearing for his safety, “I’m gonna show you, Christmas, Thanksgiving, Fourth of July, you can kick back and ring in every holiday with me, judge me, and watch and see how much I love your son, see it in the way he lights up when I walk into the room, in the way I hold his hand when he gets nervous or upset.  And when our wedding comes around, or when you meet your first grandchild you’ll _know_ , you’ll know that I’m nothing like Kate. What her and Derek had doesn’t even compare, we’re a fucking supernova, not some narcissistic bitch’s chance at playing bride.”

At the end of Stiles’ speech his breathing is labored from having forced everything out in one breath and _oh my god, did he just curse at Derek’s dad?_

Erik surprises him by huffing out a laugh, “A _fucking supernova_ , huh?”

He wraps an arm around Stiles’ shoulder; his grip is light and friendly; _acceptance_.

“C’mon son, let’s go before Derek and Talia eat all the ice cream.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Papa Hale for president, he's such fun to write.
> 
> Speaking of dads, a certain Sheriff makes his appearance in the next chapter, lets all cross our fingers for Derek.
> 
> Comments? Questions? Concerns? Talk to me, your feedback keeps me going.


	10. Love me like you do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler Alert: There's porn in this one
> 
> If that's not your thing just skip the middle portion of this chapter
> 
> And I've never written this kind of scene before so bare with me, hopefully its not completely awful
> 
> Comments/feedback would be much appreciated!

_Here goes nothing_.  
  
"Dad, this is Derek, do not flash your gun at him. I mean it."  
  
John rolls his eyes, looking skyward for strength, "Don't worry, son, I looked up his record after I found out about your first date. The gun's staying in my holster."  
  
The _for now_ goes unspoken.  
  
Stiles let out a whine, ears heating up in embarrassment,  
  
"Da-ad, you promised."  
  
"To what? Protect and serve? That's what I was doing. Protecting you from a potential axe-murderer."  
  
Never mind the fact that John knows Derek's parents. The Hales actually donated to his re-election campaign.  
  
Stiles scoffs and opens his mouth to retort, poised to launch into a long winded diatribe.  
  
Derek needs to cut in; **fast**.  
  
He places a steadying hand on Stiles' shoulder, calming him before stepping forward and stretching his hand out toward Stiles' father.

"Nice to meet you, sir. I know Stiles said you're on a bit of a strict diet but I figured if anyone deserves a cheat day, it's the sheriff."  
  
Derek produces a tubberware container of venison, holding his breath while John inspects its contents;

"Mmmm, is this venison? There may be hope for you yet, come inside, Hale."

Derek releases the breath, relief twisting his grimace into a tentative smile.

Stiles darts out in front of him, crowding around his father and trying to wrestle the container from his vice like grip.

 

* * *

  
  
"Shit, Stiles, this isn't what your father meant when he told us to get comfortable."

 They’re camped out in Stiles’ childhood bedroom, where they'll be staying for the remainder of their trip. 

Twenty minutes into their visit the sheriff was called in to check on a case, after assuring them he'd only be gone for an hour max he left the pair to their own devices, but not before cuffing Stiles on the back of his head and warning him against getting into trouble.

The action was almost reflexive and John's voice was tinged with fond exasperation, Derek could tell this was something he repeated often in Stiles' earlier years.

Presently, Derek finds himself perched on the edge Stiles' bed, his feet are flat on the floor and Stiles is kneeling between his spread thighs.

Stiles hums softly, acknowledging his boyfriend's words but showing no signs of stopping his ministrations.

Slender fingers make quick work of Derek's belt buckle, popping open the button of his jeans and sliding the denim down his hips.

A dirty grin stretches across Stiles' face when he sees that Derek's chosen to go commando.

He sucks in a breath, reaching down to re-arrange himself in his own confining trousers before burying his head in Derek's crotch.

Stiles rubs his face along his boyfriend's hip bone, closing his eyes in satisfaction, Derek's natural musk is stronger down here; it's intoxicating. Maddening even.

Derek tangles his fingers in Stiles' hair, guiding the brunette closer to where he wants him.

He settles his palm on the back of Stiles' neck, holding him steady in his spot at the base of Derek's erection.

Stiles flicks out his tongue, hot and wet before gathering one of Derek's balls in his mouth, sucking and slurping, lathering them with saliva.

Derek’s grip tightens on his neck and Stiles whimpers around his mouthful, arousal settling low in his belly.

 “Enough.”

 Derek’s voice was rough, thick and edged with arousal; he loosened his grip and pulled Stiles' mouth away from its current position, re-focusing the younger man’s attention on the shaft, thick and throbbing against his belly.

Stiles tries to press his lips against the shaft, eager to get his mouth back on Derek’s cock, but the older man stops him, using his grip on Stiles’ neck to tilt his gaze up toward him.

 Stiles struggles against Derek’s hold, brown eyes pleading and half lidded,

 “Derek…”

 Derek shushes him, bringing his free hand down to cup Stiles’ jaw, he thumbs across Stiles’ bottom lip, spit slick and cherry red, swollen from mouthing at Derek’s balls.

“Are you gonna be good for me, Stiles?”

 The man in question manages a nod, his tongue darts out to lick at Derek’s thumb and he stares up at him reverently.

 Satisfied with his lover’s answer, Derek loosens his grip on the man’s neck, giving him free reign to continue his prior actions.

 Stiles grips Derek’s erection in his palm, the flesh is hot and heavy in his hands, he spares Derek a wicked glance before circling his fingers near the head of his erection, he pulls back his foreskin, licking his lips when the flushed head pops into view.

Stiles repeats this action, spreading precome along Derek’s length before taking it into his mouth.

He swirls his tongue around the head, spiraling patterns on its underside before stroking along the slit, relishing in the taste of more precome flooding his mouth.

Derek hisses in pleasure, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to collect himself.

“Stiles, baby, I’m gonna fuck your mouth, okay? Just relax that pretty mouth for me, baby, open up and take me all the way down.”

Stiles nods vigorously, yearning for the heady slide of Derek's cock working its way past his gag reflex.

Derek smiles softly, warm affection merging with the spicy tug of his arousal.

He removes his cock from Stiles' mouth, smirking when his boyfriend whines and chases after it.

"Use your words for me, baby, wanna be sure, don't wanna hurt you."

Derek cups Stiles' cheek in his palm, stroking his skin while he waits for his answer.

"M'green, Der, want it, want you to fuck my face, please.."

Stiles' voice is rough, fucked out and clogged with arousal.

His eyes are half lidded, pupils blown and devouring the honey brown of his irises. 

Derek groans at the sight.

He searches Stiles face once more, confirming that he wants to proceed before guiding his lover's head back to his needy erection.

Stiles mouth is like velvet, smooth and plush, warm and pulsing around Derek's cock as it slides in.

Derek allows Stiles a moment to re-adjust to the weight of him on his tongue, fingers flexing against their perch on freckle dotted skin.

When Stiles taps his thigh, signaling his all clear, Derek slowly slides his length out of the man’s mouth, growling as the inside of his lover’s mouth works along his flesh, he pushes his way back in then slides out again, setting up a rhythm as fucks in and out of the tight heat of Stiles’ mouth.

He rubs his thumb against the bulging flesh of Stiles’ cheek, pride seizing him at the feel of his cock sliding in and out.

Derek can feel his release creeping up, his thrusts increase in pace and intensity, causing his cock to hit the back of Stiles’ throat.

Stiles must know that his boyfriend is getting close because he begins bobbing his head on his erection, sliding his fingers down his length to cup his balls, rolling and stroking the sac.

“So good for me, my good boy, my baby, f-fuck, gonna come, wanna taste me, sugar?”

Stiles mewls around Derek’s girth and sucks with renewed vigor, chasing after Derek’s release.

Moments later Derek’s come fills his mouth, salty and earthy, consuming his senses.

Stiles continues to suck, savoring and swallowing down every drop before pulling away when his lover groans from sensitivity.

A string of come connects him to Derek’s length and Stiles’ tongue darts out to chase it away.

His own erection is throbbing with need and he keens when Derek guides him up into his lap, shoving down Stiles’ jeans and circling his fingers around Stiles’ cock, creating a space for him to fuck into.

Derek’s tongue slides along his neck, licking and sucking over his moles before reaching his ear, he sucks the lobe into his mouth, toying with it before releasing it with a bite.

“Are you close, baby? Wanna see you, wanna see you come all over that pretty cock, c’mon, baby, be good for me.”

Stiles fucks into Derek’s grip twice more before shuddering with his own release, he paints Derek’s fingers and his lap with his come, streams of sticky white joining them together.

After Stiles catches his breath, Derek removes his fingers from Stiles’ now flaccid cock, he brings them up to his lips, sucking them in before connecting their mouths in a kiss.

Stiles’ moans at their combined taste, tongue licking further into Derek’s mouth, chasing the remnants of his release.

Derek breaks the kiss after a few moments, maneuvering Stiles off of his lap, and settling him carefully against the bed.

He strips Stiles of his remaining clothing and then presses a gentle kiss to his lips.

“Be right back, baby.”

He goes into the connecting bathroom, grabbing a washcloth to wipe off the come sticking to their bodies.

When they’re both clean, he arranges their bodies so Stiles is snug against him, back to Derek’s chest.

“Think we have time to nap before your dad’s back from the station?”

 

* * *

The sound of the front door opening rouses the pair from their slumber and they pry themselves from the warmth of Stiles’ bed, redressing in clean clothes before heading into the living room.

As they get closer Stiles picks up on another voice in addition his father’s, he strains his ears; _something about that voice is familiar_.

The sheriff and his guest turn to greet the pair as they come into view, upon recognizing the visitor, Stiles stops in his tracks, disbelief clouding his features,

“Jordan?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That wasn't so bad, was it?
> 
> Derek's quite the talker huh? Sheesh *fans self*
> 
> And oh hey, Jordan, I wonder what he's doing here? ;)
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	11. Jolene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a quick one, expect another update this weekend, things are about to get _very_ interesting.  
>  Thank you all so much for the comments and kudos and subscriptions, you guys keep me going!
> 
> Unbeta'd as usual
> 
> Also holy shit guys, we just hit 20k words!

“Jordan!”

Upon recognition, Stiles springs into action, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste to greet the blonde.

Jordan’s face splits into a grin, boyish features alight with glee before he opens his arms, creating a space for Stiles to launch into.

The Sheriff watches on, sharing an amused raise of brow with Derek, who remains stuck in his spot at the entrance of the living room. The second oldest Hale watches on in confusion, he’s racking his brain for references to this _Jordan_ , but nothing’s coming up.

He and Stiles have released each other from their embrace but remain huddled close, Derek can make out murmurs of “deployment” and “I thought you weren’t due back for another year” before Stiles’ calls his name, pulling him from his eaves-dropping.

Stiles walks back over to Derek, linking their hands and guiding him further into the room, “J, this is my boyfriend, Derek Hale, Der, this is Jordan Parrish, my best-friend and apparently my dad’s newest deputy!”

The brunette is practically vibrating with excitement, eyes flicking back and forth between his lover and his friend.

Jordan quirks a fond smile at the introduction, squeezing Stiles’ shoulder before offering his free hand to Derek to shake. Derek eyes Jordan’s other hand, still resting on his boyfriend’s shoulder before meeting the blonde’s gaze and accepting the outstretched appendage.

He plasters on a smile, all pearly white and razor sharp edges, “Nice to meet you, Jordan.”

If he puts a bit of extra pressure into his grip, well that’s no one’s business but his own.

Jordan’s lifts a brow, green eyes calculating and suddenly predatory, “The pleasure’s all mine, man.”

The shake dissolves but their gazes remained locked, waiting for the other to break.

Its Stiles, sweet, infuriatingly oblivious, _Stiles_ who cuts in, unknowingly diffusing the sudden tension by stepping between the pair, “C’mon you two, we’re going grocery shopping, I promised dad ribs for dinner and I could use your bag carrying services.”

Jordan slings his arm around Stiles’ shoulder, pulling him closer and smirking when Derek’s brows knot together in displeasure, “You’ve gotta see my new ride, ’Linski, she puts Betsy to shame.”

Stiles makes a noise of protest, squirming out of Parrish’s grip and playfully swatting the back of his head in retaliation, “First of all, watch your mouth, my jeep is a gift, and you shall refer to her as such, and secondly, I can’t believe you still call me that you big dork.”

Jordan rubs his scalp, soothing over the sting and grumbling under his breath before pining Stiles with a wounded look, “I’m your dork though, right?”

Amber eyes soften, warm and  fond before Stiles pulls Parrish in, ruffling his hair in a familial gesture, “Yeah, yeah,  you’re my dork, you nerd.”

Jordan rolls his eyes at Stiles’ teasing, taking hold of the younger man’s upper arm and dragging him toward the front door, “Says the former, Regional Math Champion, I still have the pictures, Stiles.”

Another round of squabbling breaks out as they head out the door and into the front yard, Derek stays back, trying to reconcile reality with what he thinks, no _knows_ , Jordan is attempting to do.

John claps Derek on the shoulder, “I wouldn’t worry about them too much, son, Jordan and Stiles have been thick as thieves since diapers, they’re always ribbing on each other, turn the radio up on the way to the store if you wanna keep your sanity.”

Derek offers Stiles’ father a weak smile, trying to shake himself out of his sudden funk.

 His boyfriend’s father just called him son, the ultimate seal of approval, he should feel elated, but instead his happiness has given way to the acrid bite of jealousy settling in his throat, choking him.

He huffs out a laugh, the sound hallow as he collects himself, gathering his nerves for what is sure to be a long car ride.

Stiles’ head pops around the corner, cheeks a rose speckled flush, “You coming, babe?”

Derek smiles, a real one this time, private and reserved,  just for Stiles,  before saying his goodbyes to John and joining his lover in the entrance hall.

When Derek is within arms reach, Stiles tugs on his lapels, pulling him closer and pressing a kiss to his lips, “All good?”

Derek nods, breathing in Stiles’ scent and letting it ground him, “All good.”

 

* * *

 

“I’m thinking I’ll do corn on the cob and potato salad with the ribs, speaking of, can you season ‘em, babe? The rub you did for Scotty’s barbecue was amazing.”

Stiles pins his boyfriend with pleading eyes, pouting his lips for added effect. Derek rolls his eyes, managing to make the action look fond before pressing a kiss to Stiles’ protruding lips, “Put the bambi eyes  away, sug, I’d be happy to do it.”

Stiles smirks, popping another kiss to Derek’s lips before tossing the corn and potatoes into the cart, “Not my fault you can’t resist, em.”

Derek’s retort dies on his lips when Jordan butts in, shifting the topic of conversation, “I was thinking I’d make those cookies you and dad like, its been a while but I’m sure I can remember the recipe.”

Stiles eyes light up and he bounces on the soles of his feet, “The triple chocolate chippers! Please J, you gotta make ‘em.”

Jordan grins and smacks a kiss to Stiles’ cheek, eyes locking with Derek’s over the brunette’s head.

 _Your move_.

Derek’s hands clench at his sides, he refuses to rise to Jordan’s bait, he knew what he was doing, calling John _dad_ , and spreading his germs all over Stiles.

Oblivious, Stiles begins to make his way toward the confection aisle, muttering about chocolate, _the good kind, not the skimpy stuff_.

With Stiles out of ear shot, Derek turns to Jordan, leveling him with a glare, “I know what you’re doing and its not gonna work.”

Jordan hums, tilting his head, all guile and faux innocence, “You think so, huh? Sounds like a challenge.”

Parrish reaches a hand out to pat Derek on the back, wincing when his wrist is caught in Derek’s grip.

Derek can’t believe it. The fucking _insolence_.

This kid, _Parrish_ , is under the impression that he can waltz his way back into Stiles’ life and boot Derek out of the way. Not gonna happen.

“I suggest you keep your hands to yourself, _deputy_ , I’d hate to see you lose one.”

Jordan tosses his head back, throat fluttering around a laugh; he snatches his wrist back, ignoring the ache and squaring his shoulders.

He steps forward, crowding Derek’s space, “Game on, Hale.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jordan's a piece of work, huh? Sad part is, he's just begun.
> 
> And Stiles, sweet oblivious Stiles.
> 
> Poor Derek, let's hope he doesn't let Jordan compromise his character.
> 
> I can see this going one of two ways, they come to blows or Derek snaps and stakes his claim on Stiles knowing that Jordan'll be able to tell when they come back all disheveled and fucked out. Ideas, Ideas.
> 
> Oh and a little backstory on Jordan and Stiles, they met the summer before Scott moved to Beacon Hills, the 'Linski nickname comes from little!Jordan's inability to pronounce Stilinski, eventually Stiles grew tired of trying to teach him to pronounce it so the nickname stuck. At the end of their senior year, Jordan enlisted in the army, following in his father's foot steps, despite the distance he and Stiles remained in constant contact, writing letters and skyping whenever they could. Despite attempts on both sides, they fall out of contact for the past year, Jordan was granted an early deployment and set his sights on Beacon Hills, determined to rekindle his relationship with Stiles and serve and protect his hometown.
> 
> Comments? Questions? I look forward to your feedback!


	12. Rock Steady

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to back updates!  
> Quick warning, Stiles dissociates at the beginning of this chapter, I don't think it's too graphic but to veer on the safe side the scene starts at "Stiles flutters" and ends at "He's back".  
> I drew from my own experiences with dissociation so hopefully I did it justice, but like I said its not too graphic, hopefully.  
> Thank you for the kudos, comments, subscriptions, and bookmarks! I appreciate them and I look forward to hearing from you all!

Stiles flutters around the kitchen; chopping, boiling, sautéing; comfortable and assure.  He’s home, his childhood kitchen, the source of light and laughter, pancakes on Sunday mornings and late night cookies and milk when he couldn’t sleep.

Outside of her studio, he feels closest to her here, with the gentle whir of the oven and the dull tick as the clock winds on, he can hear her warning him to go easy on the sugar, can see her sneaking him bits of cookie dough when his father wasn’t looking. He misses his mother, yearns for her smile and embrace, it’s a constant ache in his chest; pieces of him fractured off and jagged.

Warmth envelopes his back, shrouding him fully, bonding together the cracks and fissures so he can breathe again, for now, he is whole again.

Derek.

He relaxes back into his lover’s arms, for once content to stay still, Derek quiets his mind, steadies him in the present, lulling his twitches and tremors into submission.

Sweet release.

Derek noses his way behind Stiles’ ear, nuzzling his freckle dotted skin, lips a warm press against his flesh,

“Back with us?”

Stiles blinks, once, twice, refocusing ‘till he’s back in the present. He twists around in the embrace, they’re chest to chest now so he leans forward, forehead pressed against Derek’s, he still feels a bit fuzzy around the edges, muted, but he’ll be back soon enough,

“Almost.”

They stand there, huddled together in the kitchen, breathing one another in, breaths mingling to the point of cohesion. Stiles isn’t sure how many seconds pass but Derek remains, steady and reassuring, always open, eager to offer whatever he can.

His surroundings flesh out, edges solid and smooth, in full Technicolor, sounds follow suit, dull hums rising to their true intensity.

He’s back.

Derek kisses him, a gentle caress of lips before he pulls away, refocusing his attention on the racks of ribs set out on the kitchen counter. Briefly, Stiles formulates a plot to restrict his father’s red meat intake.

The screen door rattles before smacking open, knocking into the door frame, worn from years of the same abuse.

“Grill’s ready!”

Ray-Bans hide the green of Jordan’s eyes, there’s a sheen of sweat sticking to his forehead and his cheeks are cherry red from sun exposure. Stiles should take a picture and send it to Lydia, he knows she’d appreciate the view. And oh, there’s an idea.

He’s going to play match-maker tonight;  they’ll both thank him later. He wonders if he can find a way to work the topic of long-distance relationships into polite dinner conversation. Not that anyone would ever expect him to be polite, or _subtle_ , a voice that sounds suspiciously like Lydia chimes in at the back of his head.

The sight of Derek’s forearms flexing as he stacks racks of ribs onto a tray pulls Stiles from his plotting, he was only left in charge of the side dishes and those are done, he’s earned the right to uselessly ogle his boyfriend.

Jordan nudges his side, releasing him from his stupor, the look on his face is less than impressed,

“You can eye-fuck him later, we’ve got grilling to do.”

Stiles smirks, as if to say I’ll be doing more than just _eye_ -fucking him later but he relents, grabbing the tongs and barbecue sauce before holding the back door open so Derek can balance the tray with ease. The sight of his boyfriend’s ass in those ridiculously tight jeans was just a bonus, really.

* * *

 

He’s two for two with the awkward dinners, one more and it’s a pattern.

His father seems oblivious, all too happy to gorge himself on saucy, cholesterol clogging goodness; he and Stiles will be exchanging words later.

Derek and Jordan are engaged in some sort of silent pissing contest, Stiles can only hope they don’t start comparing dick sizes; his dad isn’t the only one with a weak heart.

The two idiots are barley letting each other get a word out edge-wise, snapping back and forth in a way that’s past friendly jabs and gone into bloody cage match territory.

Every time Stiles tries to bring up a topic of mutual enjoyment they cut him off, launching into long winded rants and bragging sessions; Stiles is about to pop a blood vessel.

He’s never seen Jordan act like this, so _childish_ , and don’t even get him started on Derek, sure, Derek teases, and snarks and jokes, but he’s never _mean_ , not like how he’s being with Jordan.

Stiles could probably fillet himself with a butter knife and they’d be none the wiser, too busy swapping stories about mud wrestling rhinos or head-locking sharks or whatever it is morons talk about when they’re hell bent on one-upping each other.

They look like they’re about a second away from coming to blows and that’s when Stiles snaps, pushing away from table so his wooden chair scrapes along the tiled floor. Both Derek and Jordan pause mid-sentence, wincing at the harsh sound, even the sheriff stops his attack on what has to be his second half rack of ribs, and yes, Stiles is definitely counting.

When he realizes that Stiles is not about to unleash the hounds of hell on him however, he huffs out a laugh, shaking his head in sympathy before continuing to glutton himself on the spread before him. Oh yeah, Stiles thinks, words will be had.

Stiles rises from his seat, locking gazes with his boyfriend, “Derek, can you come help me out in the kitchen for a sec?”

Derek’s gulp is audible, Stiles has only ever used that tone with him once and that was when he accidently broke Stiles’ collector’s edition Millennium Falcon; he ended up sleeping on the coach for a whole week.

Stiles is equal parts terrifying and arousing when he gets like this, well maybe not equal parts, Derek can feel how wide his eyes are so he’s gonna say terrifying wins out a bit.

“Um, sure thing, babe.”

He doesn’t miss the smug smirk Parrish tosses his way and from the glare Stiles shoots at his best-friend, he doesn’t either.

 _Suck it, Jordan_.

* * *

 

“Mind telling me just what the fuck that was about?”

They’re back in Stiles’ bedroom, he’d bypassed the kitchen completely, tugging on Derek’s arm and leading him up the staircase.

Derek juts his chin out, shoulder’s tense, the definition of defiant.

“What are you referring to exactly?”

Stiles squawks out a noise of disbelief, as if he wasn’t aware Derek could be so juvenile.

Well, there’s a first time for everything.

“What am I referring to exactly? What am I-what I’m referring to is you and Jordan about to break out World War Z in my dining room, what I’m referring to is that archaic grudge match I was just forced to witness, that spectacle in front of my father!”

Derek growls, because well, for someone so perceptive, so intelligent Stiles lacks a single shred of self awareness.

“Don’t give me that shit, Stiles! Don’t act like you don’t see it!”

Derek crosses the space between them, backing Stiles into the wall, locking him in place.

If Derek thought he was the stubborn one in this relationship, he had another thing coming.

Stiles stretches his arms out in front of him, pushing at Derek’s chest,

“You don’t intimidate me, Derek,  so don’t even fucking try it! I don’t see it, whatever the hell it is Derek, that’s why I’m fucking asking you!”

Something in Derek snaps and he sags forward, defeated and miserable.

 “He wants you, Stiles, Jordan, he’s trying to take you from me.”

And, shit, he didn’t see that one coming.

Him? Jordan? Together? Never gonna happen.

“Derek Anthony Hale, do you trust me?”

His boyfriend sags forward even further, seeking comfort, his voice is rough when he speaks, a bit hoarse from yelling, “Of course I do, and it’s not you, it’s me and my own insecurities, I don’t know why I’m acting like this…”

Stiles nudges Derek’s face with his chin, urging him to look up,

“Baby, listen to me, Jordan and I will be having a conversation later but this right here, this pissing contest,  is uncalled for, I’m in love with you, Derek Hale, no one else. What Kate and Peter did to you was beyond fucked up, beyond traumatic, and I’m so proud of you, for putting yourself back out there and loving me but I need you to talk to me, don’t shut me out and let it get to this point. If I knew about this from the start I would’ve nipped it in the bud.”

Derek nods, bending down to kiss Stiles’ shoulder in apology, “I will, M’sorry, babe.”

“Apology accepted, now c’mon let’s head back before dad comes looking.”

Derek joins their hands together, using his free one to hold the door open,

“No offense but I think he’s hoping we never come back, he looked like he wanted to elope with those ribs.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?  
> Whew, finally Stiles knows what's going on  
> Things are smooth and steady for the moment, but don't get too comfortable, Stiles confronts Jordan next chapter.  
> I see posessive!sex on the horizon


	13. High Tempo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The porn's back, folks! This chapter is a long one (8 pages in word) and actually my first foray into a legitimate (explicit) sex scene (outside the blow job scene a couple chapters back) so go easy on me! Anyway, hope you enjoy and thank you for all the comments, kudos, and bookmarks, you guys are my motivation and I appreciate you so much!

“Where’s Jordan?”

John dragged his attention away from the (suspiciously) full plate of food in front of him, schooling his expression into one of (contrite) innocence. 

“Went out back, said he needed some air.”

Stiles nodded in response before flicking his gaze to his father’s plate, eyebrows lifting as he noticed that a new half rack of ribs had seemingly materialized in his absence.

John took his son’s scrutiny in stride, meeting his gaze unblinkingly,  he was the damn Sheriff, if he wanted ribs he would have them.

If possible, Stiles’ brows traveled further up his hairline in a move that was decidedly Derek-esque.

“ _Dad_.”

He intoned, arms crossed against his chest,

“Do I really have to say it?”

It was The Sheriff’s turn to raise a brow, “What could you possibly have to say to me, my only son? Hmm? Spit it out, light of my life, bearer of my name.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, “You know you’re supposed to be laying off the meat, dad.”

John sighed, mouth open to retort when he was cut off by Derek, whom until now had being watching the familial exchange in silent amusement.

Derek ran his hands along Stiles’ crossed arms, detangling them so he could press a kiss to each wrist, “C’mon Stiles, I’d say he earned it, right? I mean its only his second piece-”

It was most definitely not only his second piece and they all knew that but Derek couldn’t just stand there and let John suffer, he knew how strict Stiles was with his father’s diet, and he also knew that this one indulgence was both harmless and well deserved.

“And he ate two bowls of salad with no dressing, and he didn’t even put butter on the grilled corn. Cut him some slack, babe.”

Stiles tossed one final warning glare at his father before sighing in defeat.

The Sherriff grinned, casting a grateful look in Derek’s direction.

Stiles tipped his head up, sniffing indignantly and crossing his arms once more, “Well, it’s easy to see that I’ve been outnumbered, neither of you better come crying to me when his cholesterol levels are off the charts.”

The Sherriff ignored his son’s flare for the dramatics and dug into his ribs happily, humming as he savored this one true respite.

Stiles huffed.

“Well, if you two carnivores are done ganging up on me, I’ll be outside; I need to talk to Jordan.”

Derek’s jaw clenched reflexively at the mention of the blonde, and he willed himself to calm down, the last thing he needed was to cause a scene in front of Stiles’ father.

Stiles uncrossed his arms and pressed a kiss to Derek’s head before guiding him into his vacated spot at the table, “You two just hang tight, we need a minute.”

Derek nodded almost imperceptibly and the Sheriff hummed in agreement, still engrossed in his plate.

Stiles paused at Derek’s reaction, eyes flicking from his boyfriend’s face to the screen door leading to the backyard. He bent slightly, ducking his head down so he could speak into Derek’s ear, “You’ve got me, babe, remember? Always.”

Derek turned his head so he could press a quick kiss to Stiles’ jaw, mindful of his father’s presence, he took in his partner’s scent, evergreen and pine, tinged with vanilla and molasses; and let it wash over him, calming him ‘till he could offer a reassuring nod in response.

Stiles gave Derek’s shoulder one last squeeze before standing back to his full height and striding across the dining room, into the hall, and out the screen door, his frame disappearing into the haze of the sunset.

* * *

 

 

“Was wondering when you’d come looking.”

Jordan’s back is to him, straight and tight with stress, Stiles can’t see his face from this angle, can’t look him in the eyes so he ventures closer, sidling up next him, almost shoulder to shoulder but not quite, the white wooden beams of the back deck holding all of their weight.

“You gonna tell me what’s been going on with you and Derek? If you say it’s nothing, I’ll castrate you.”

Jordan smirked at the threat, ducking his head so Stiles wouldn’t see the reaction and feel the need to follow through.

He used this new angle to look up at the brunette from beneath his lashes, running his gaze along the planes of Stiles’ face, he mapped out the gleaming amber of his eyes, the button of his nose, and the soft dip of that cupid’s bow mouth; his heart clenched as he took in every freckle and mole smattered across pale skin, un-named constellations; hypnotizing and infinite.

When he finally spoke his voice was raw and audibly fractured, a crude imitation of his traitorous heart, “Why him?”

Stiles keeps his gaze on the view before them, unsurprised by the question, “Because I can’t imagine life without him, because he’s everything I’m not and everything I am, he completes me, grounds me, anchors me. When I’m with him there’s a shift, everything comes into place, everything that bogs me down and holds me back, my worries, my fears, my every trepidation, they all disappear when I’m with Derek. Loving him and having that love returned is something that’s indescribable, knowing that out of everyone in this world, I’m the one who he decided to love, who he wakes up every morning next to, and continues to choose to love, it’s gratifying and dizzying and drives me absolutely mental but that’s what love is, that’s what our love is like; he’s my soul mate, Jordan, my twin flame.”

Stiles words hang in the air between them, firm and sure, they wrap around Jordan’s throat and squeeze, forcing his heart into submission.

He gasps out a breath, feeling impossibly small all of a sudden.

There’s a solidity to Stiles’ confession, as if every word were carved in marble, etched into the collective consciousness; timeless and permanent.

It’s a far cry from what he wanted. He hoped for something flimsy, malleable, a fleeting crush he could bend until it broke; reducible to puppy love.

His heart feels like it’s been ripped in two, briefly, bitterly, he thinks he deserves it, deserves to suffer for the way he’s been attempting to undermine his friend’s happiness. He wants to speak, to apologize, but the words won’t come out, lodged in his throat like bile, nauseating and thick.

Stiles must sense his inner turmoil because he wraps an arm around Jordan’s shoulders before speaking, “Listen, I’m still far from impressed with your behavior but I get it, I know what its like and I’m not gonna punish you for feelings that are out of your control, asshole or not you’re still my best-friend if you want to be and I still love you but if you want this to work you need accept that love in the capacity I’m giving it and respect my relationship from here on out, hate to break it to you dude but you owe Derek an apology, not saying that it has to be right now, but some time in the near future, a sorry needs to be exchanged.”

Jordan leans into the touch, grateful for his best-friend’s penchant for forgiveness, “It might take me a bit, but I can do that, for you, I can try.”

Stiles’ smile is bittersweet as he pulls Jordan into a hug, “I’m glad you’re back you big doofus.”

Jordan huffs out a laugh, squeezing Stiles extra tight in retaliation, “Glad to be back, dork.”

The pair remain on the back porch for a few minutes longer, relaxing in the resumed ease of their companionship;  when Stiles offers Jordan dessert, the older man turns him down, claiming sudden fatigue.

Its painfully transparent but Stiles doesn’t push, he gets it, knows that Jordan needs some time to himself, to lick his wounds and refocus his romantic energy elsewhere.

They part with a final hug and Stiles stays on the porch, watching as Jordan’s car disappears down the path.

* * *

 

 

When Stiles returns, the interior lights have been dimmed, the kitchen and the dining room have been cleaned up and he can hear the sound of the TV droning on in the living room.

He follows the blue glow of the screen and finds his father sprawled out on the couch, eyes closed in sleep, the elder huffs out a snore and Stiles smirks before grabbing a blanket to cover him.

After he settles the blanket across his father’s body, he whispers a simple goodnight and shuts off the television.

Muscle memory guides him up the stairs without a hitch and he pushes the door to his bedroom open, eyes locking with Derek’s as he takes in his lover’s form spread across his childhood bed.

Derek’s shucked off his clothes and left himself in just his briefs and thin t-shirt, stretches of tan skin and muscle on display.

Stiles closes the door behind him with a soft click, locking it before bending down to take off his shoes. His socks follow suit and then he's unbuckling his belt, sliding it from the loops so he can unbutton and unzip his jeans, tugging them down ‘till they pool at his feet.

Derek’s eyes watch him all the while, greedily drinking in every peak of his flesh as its exposed.

He kicks the denim into the corner before tugging his t-shirt up and over his head, shivering as his skin comes into contact with the chilled air of the interior.

Satisfied with his state of undress he makes his way over to the bed, crawling on top of Derek and pressing against him so they’re chest to chest. He brushes his fingers through Derek’s hair before rubbing their noses together, his face luminated with love and affection.

His soulmate smiles up at him, relishing in the attention, “How’d it go?”

Stiles hums, nuzzling along Derek’s jaw, peppering kisses over stubbled skin, “Was fine, waxed poetic about you and told him I’d cut his dick off, expect an awkward apology in a couple of days.”

Derek huffs out a laugh before flipping their bodies over and pressing his face into the crook of Stiles’ neck, he breathes him in and then lets out a whine of discomfort before pulling back.

Stiles arches a brow, mouth twisted in concern, “What’s wrong?”

Derek frowns, pressing his face to freckled skin once more, his voice is slightly muffled from his positioning but Stiles manages to make out what he’s saying, “Smell like him.”

The younger of the two marvels at his boyfriend’s sense of smell before gathering his face in his hands, pulling him away from his neck, “Must be from when we hugged it out.”

He drops his hands from Derek’s face and stretches his body out further, angling his neck toward his lover once more,

“Fix it, Der, make me smell like yours again.”

Derek reassumes his position with his face tucked into Stiles’ neck, this time, instead of just inhaling he nuzzles into the skin, admiring the way it blooms under his ministrations, pale flesh flushing a delicious red.

He begins to press open mouthed kisses to the area, flicking his tongue out to taste, mapping out freckles with the wet muscle. Stiles groans and squirms beneath him, fingers clutching at the sheets. Derek slides down his lover’s body, kissing and sucking as he makes his way down. He swirls his tongue around a pebbled nipple, flicking over the bud and pulling it into his mouth, sucking obscenely.

Stiles is fucking up against him now, hips seeking friction on their own accord, he lets out a whine, pitched off and broken as Derek takes his other nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his teeth.

“F-fuck, Der, please.” Stiles whimpers, voice as thick as the coat of his arousal scenting the air.

Derek lets out a growl, loosening Stiles’ hands from their clutch on the sheets before gather them in one of his own, capturing his wrists and pinning them above his head.

“Please what, baby? Tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you.”

Stiles keens, his head is foggy with lust, and the slick slide of his cock against the dampened fabric of his briefs has killed his brain to mouth filter.

“Words, baby, be good for me.”

Stiles whines again, struggling to vocalize what he needs. Derek is patient and continues his way down Stiles’ body, tongue dipping into the rivets of his lover’s hip bones, skirting along the edge of his briefs.

Derek pauses his ministrations for a moment, hushing Stiles when he gargles out a noise of protest. He divests himself of his own shirt and briefs and then resumes his actions, grinning when Stiles spreads his legs wider, opening himself up for Derek’s teasing.

“Need ‘em off, Der,” he forces out, choked up on arousal, “need you.”

Derek hums, pressing a kiss to Stiles’ crotch before pulling his briefs down and off, “It’s okay, baby, I’ve got you, gonna make you feel so good, take care of you, make you mine again.”

Stiles sighs in relief, tension draining from his body as he allows himself to relax, going boneless in his lover’s grasp, offering himself up to be taken apart and put back together again.

Derek relishes in the show of submission, licking a long wet stripe along the line of Stiles’ cock before taking the head into his mouth, savoring every gasp and moan that the brunette lets out.

He pulls off with an audible pop and taps Stiles on the thighs, urging him to turn over, with Stiles on his stomach his ass is directly in Derek’s line of vision, plush and inviting.

Unable to resist he gives each cheek a playful bite, grinning when Stiles squeals in delight, “Keep still, baby.” He chides, voice fond and lacking any heat.

Stiles settles again, arching up and presenting for Derek.

His boyfriend growls out his approval, before spreading Stiles’ cheeks with his thumbs, exposing his hole before pressing his cheeks back together and repeating the action.

Stiles whimpers and whines, biting his lip to muffle the sounds of his pleasure, Derek rewards his restraint by spreading his cheeks once more and pressing a kiss to his rim.

Stiles’ hole is flushed pink, furling and then unfurling as it winks at him, eager for something inside.

Derek slips his tongue out, lapping at the skin before him before puckering his lips and blowing a puff of air over Stiles’ hole.

“Mmm, Der-p-please.”

Derek spreads Stiles even wider and begins rimming him with vigor, curling his tongue deep, up into Stiles’ hole, pooling saliva in his mouth and getting his face and Stiles’ rim wet and messy.

He pulls back to admire his work and begins working a finger into Stiles’ hole, stretching and loosening the rim.

Stiles has resorted to stuffing his discarded briefs into his mouth, grateful that the fabric is blocking out his noises.

Derek slides up so his mouth is at Stiles’ ear, a second finger has joined the first and both continue to pump in and out of the man’s hole as he speaks, “Can’t wait ‘till we’re back home, baby, gonna make you scream, get to hear every greedy little noise that comes out of your mouth, hear you moaning for me, begging for me to fill you up.”

Derek slides in a third finger, scissoring them as he stretches Stiles out and prepares him for the thick girth of his cock.

He reaches blindly behind himself with his free hand, busy fingers still pumping; he grapples with the handle of Stiles’ bed-side dresser, reaching for the lube he knows will be there.

Derek pops the cap and  squirts lube along his length, coating it generously before slipping his fingers from Stiles hole, and lubricating the passage.

“Ready, baby? You’re being so good for me, gonna stuff you full, give you what you need.”

He lines his cock up with Stiles’ entrance, circling his rim with the tip of his dick, pressing slightly without pushing in.

Stiles rips the briefs from his mouth, sucking in a breath before rocking back into the press of Derek’s cock, “M’ready, please, Der, want it, need you to fill me up.”

Derek slides into Stiles in one slick slide, hot length pulsing as he settles into Stiles’ hole, lube oozes around his length as pushes forward, finally stopping when his balls are flush against Stiles’ cheeks.

 He bends down and presses a kiss to the back of Stiles’ neck, allowing him to adjust.

“Lemme know when you’re ready, baby, take your time.”

He rubs his hand along his lover’s skin in soothing circles, focusing on comforting him as he waits for his discomfort to ease.

“Ready, Der, please..”

Derek presses another kiss to Stiles’ neck before sliding his hands down to grip his lover’s hips, gaining leverage to fuck in and out of him.

He grinds his hip in slow, sensuous circles, and then speeds up, hips snapping; he fluctuates between slow, deep grinding and rapid thrusts; pushing him to the brink with speed and keeping him from the edge with slow sensuality.

Stiles is babbling mindlessly beneath him, or Derek assumes he is, the briefs are back in his mouth again, muting his speech.

“You’re so good for me, baby, are you close? Want you to give me your cum, sugar, gush all over me and I'll fill you up.”

Derek pistons his hips, hitting Stiles’ prostate with every thrust and reaching down to grasp his lover’s cock in his palm, thumb brushing out to tease the slit.

“C’mon, baby, let go for me, cum for me, sweetheart.”

Stiles rocks back into Derek’s thrusts, chasing his orgasm; Derek lays a quick slap to Stiles’ ass and the small spark of pain pushes his lover over the edge, his body shaking as he comes, release coating Derek’s fingers.

Derek growls lowly and increases his pace, removing the briefs from Stiles’ mouth and slipping in his come coated fingers, feeding and silencing him all in one go.

“M’close, sugar, gonna fill you up, give you my cum.”

Stiles moans his agreement around Derek’s fingers, cum and saliva dripping down his chin.

The sight of Stiles strung and wrecked triggers his release and Derek buries his face into the crook of his lover’s neck, biting into his flesh as his orgasm rocks through his body. He darts his tongue out to soothe the abused flesh before pulling out and collapsing beside Stiles.

He pulls Stiles into his arms, connecting their lips in sweet kiss, “Y'Were so good for me, baby, made me feel so good, love you.”

Stiles smiles up at him, humming happily, “M’glad, love making you feel good, love you, Der.”

The couple bask in post orgasm bliss, trading sleepy kisses before rising to clean themselves up and prepare for slumber. Once they’re clean they slip back into bed, Stiles back to Derek’s front, and settle in, allowing the lull of sleep to pull them under.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Jordan talked it out, The Sheriff got his ribs, and Sterek got their rocks off, I'd call that a good day  
> Un'beta'd as per usual  
> Looking forward to hearing your feedback on this chapter, especially the first full blown Sterek sex scene  
> Thanks for reading!


	14. Exes and Oh's

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did ya miss me???? Finals are kicking my ass but here's an update, this one was pretty difficult to get out for some reason and I kind of fucking hate it but I'll be done with this semester on Thursday and then I can fully devote myself to this fic so anyway I'll stop talking now, enjoy!
> 
> Also hey trigger warning:  
> -mentions of blood, vomit  
> -minor character death (mentioned)  
> -mentions of drug use (cocaine)  
> -mentions of rehab  
> -mentions of risky/reckless behaviors associated with drug use  
> -mentions of anorexic behaviors
> 
> All of this occurs in the final part of the chapter that starts with Stiles massaging Derek's scalp

It's ten past eight and for all intents and purposes Stiles is dead to the world. Sore-assed, fucked out, and blissfully far removed.  
  
The persistent individual on the other side of the door to the Stilinski residence apparently hasn't gotten the memo.  
  
Stiles continues to ignore the knocking and ringing of the door bell, he's on vacation and debating on giving Derek a good-morning blow job, either the person waits for his dad to answer or they take the hint and fuck off; either outcome is fine by him.  
  
Except, goddamnit, his father left for the station around five, Stiles blearily remembers him peeking his head in, covering his eyes dramatically and muttering about Derek "putting a ring on it".

He blames Lydia and her never ending Beyoncé playlist last summer.  
  
With a sigh Stiles pulls himself out of Derek's hold, pausing to press a kiss to his lover's forehead. Derek, ever the heavy sleeper, frowns before snuggling up to Stiles' now vacant pillow, crowding closer to the source of his boyfriend's scent and relaxing back into a deep slumber.  
  
Stiles grabs a t-shirt and a pair of sweats from his dresser and slips them on before making his way downstairs, heading closer to the door where the unwanted visitor is still knocking.  
  
He pulls the door open with more force than necessary, sarcastic retort primed and ready to fall from his lips but before he can speak, the guest beats him to it.  
  
"You're here! I mean, well yes, obviously, I saw a car in the drive way and ran into your dad at the coffee shop and he said you'd be here so well here I am-uh, okay I'm fucking this up. Hi Stiles, can I come in?"  
  
"Um..."  
  
Standing before him is someone he thought he'd never have the misfortune of seeing again.

Bronzed, fit, and gorgeous as ever, is the ex of all exes, the root of many an inferiority complex; Danny Mahealani.  
  
Stiles can't help but wonder exactly what in the fuck he's doing here.

Seconds pass, seeming like hours, as the pair continue to stand in silence.  
  
Strong arms wrap around him from behind and Stiles sinks into the embrace, his shock has rendered him mute.

Derek presses a kiss to the side of Stiles' neck before resting his chin on the man's shoulder.

He's regarding Danny suspiciously, having easily picked up on his boyfriend’s heightened anxiety.  
  
"Can’t sleep without you, baby, who's this?" Derek questions, rubbing soothing circles into Stiles' skin, hoping to ease his shaking form.

Stiles snaps out of his stupor and tilts his head in Danny’s direction, exercising the maximum amount of movement he’s afforded in his current position,

“Der, this is, Danny Mahealani, Danny this is my boyfriend, Derek Hale.”

The recognition dawns upon Derek almost instantly and his lips twist into a scowl, handsome features darkening in thinly veiled disgust. He unwraps his arms from around Stiles, and instead comes to stand in front of him, shielding his lover from Danny’s prying gaze.

“I’d say it was a pleasure to meet you, David, but that’d make me a liar. You’re done here.”

The door slams with an audible bang, Stiles doesn't even wince.

He's still glued to his spot, mind racing in an attempt to understand what just happened.

Danny. Danny Mahealani, was here, on his porch, asking to come inside, like he wanted to catch up or something, as if he and Stiles were friends.

The audacity, the sheer fucking _gall_ of him to do such a thing, to stand there and act as though he deserved to even look at Stiles, as if he had an right to talk to Stiles' father, to even ask about him.

God, he's gonna be sick.

* * *

 He doesn't know how he got here, but he's back in bed, tucked safely in Derek's arms as the older man murmurs soothing words into his ear.

Stiles focuses on the warmth of his lover's embrace, the softness of the comforter, the steady thump of Derek's heartbeat; slowly, he trudges through the fog, pushing forward and regaining clarity.

It comes back to him now, flashes of the not so distant past, he remembers working himself into a panic, Danny's presence a tangible source of anguish, he remembers the shortness of breath, his legs like jello, the rough wood of the foyer against his ass as he sunk to the floor, curling up on himself.

Then its Derek, soothing words and careful touches, feather light kisses and steady hands, strong and sure as they picked him up, carrying him up the stairs and settling him in bed, shielding him from his unsavory reality.

He croaks out an apology, but Derek shushes him, fingers reaching out to massage his scalp,

"Sleep, sugar, I'll be here when you wake up."

He commands, and Stiles obeys, eyes fluttering shut as he succumbs to his apparent exhaustion. 

* * *

Derek rises before Stiles this time, the sun is high in the sky; its past noon and he feels sated for now, embracing the silence.

In his sleep, Stiles' features are soft and slack, he's curled up against him, fingers clutching at Derek's skin to keep him close.

He lets Stiles rest for another half hour before attempting to wake him up.

He begins by pressing kisses to each of his eyelids, soft pecks against the delicate skin; they flutter but remain shut.

Moving down, he kisses along the high arches of Stiles' cheekbones, paying extra attention to every mole and freckle.

When Derek reaches his lips, Stiles finally opens his eyes,

"Hi" he murmurs, mouth stretching into a sleepy grin.

Derek kisses him again, this time with vigor; he cradles Stiles’ head in his hands, stroking the soft skin behind his ears as he massages his lips against the other man’s.

 Every nerve in his body thrums to life as he coaxes Stiles’ mouth open, gently, carefully, he eases his tongue past the seam of his lover’s lips, wetting the plush pout of flesh before licking against the knobbed roof of his mouth.

Stiles moans in response, still languid from sleep, pliant and eager to offer himself up to Derek’s plundering, their tongues meet in a moist caress, smooth muscles curling and  twisting as they continue to map out familiar territory.

They part, chests heaving and cheeks flushed, stomach’s fluttering with arousal; Derek tucks his head into the crook of Stiles’ neck, soft pants brushing over the delicate skin, making Stiles squirm in delight.

“Tickles, Der.”

 The man mumbles, rolling over so that his form is now starfished on top of his lover’s, Derek huffs in amusement and wraps his arms tightly around the brunette, encouraging his soulmate to press even closer against him.

He can feel Stiles’ lips moving against his chest but can’t make out what he’s saying, sensing his confusion, Stiles lifts his head,

“M’sorry, about earlier, with-he,”

Stiles pauses, frustration evident as he stumbles over his words.

“He wasn’t supposed to come here, I wasn’t supposed to see him, I don’t _want.._ ”

His boyfriend’s panic is almost palpable, and Derek quickly sets out to comfort him, laying Stiles’ head on his chest at an angle so he can stroke his hair and hear him talk at the same time. He continues to caress and detangle the disheveled locs as he waits for Stiles to gather his thoughts.

“I don’t want him to come here and fuck me up, fuck _us_ up. I’m so fucking happy, Derek, you make me so fucking happy and I don’t want to lose that, lose you, because my fucking bastard of an ex thinks he can just pop in on us uninvited.”

Derek wants to find Danny and rip him apart, limb by useless fucking limb, _**slowly**_.

This man, who in this moment looks so much like a boy, is scared that he’ll lose him, scared that seeing Danny and seeing how he affects Stiles is going to make him leave. He’d laugh if the thought wasn’t so fucking ludicrous.

“Baby, listen to me, I get it, okay? Remember that talk we had at my parents’ house, when you held me, and promised to be there for me, that’s a two way street, sugar. I’m not going anywhere, Dirk or no Dirk.”

Stiles snorts at Derek’s habit of misnomering Danny, and the elder grins down at him, pleased to have made his mate smile.

“I know what it’s like to be unexpectedly confronted with bits of your past you’d rather forget, but I also know that you’re strong, you’re resilient, and nothing like the Stiles that bastard fucked over in college, he doesn’t even deserve to breathe the same air as you do, baby, you’re loved; completely and constantly, nothing he does or says is gonna change that.”

He waits for Stiles to respond, tensing as seconds pass and his partner continues to stare at him, eyes glassy and unblinking. Derek’s about to ask him if he’s okay when Stiles springs into action, clambering on top of him and pressing sloppy-sweet kisses all over his face, the brief reprieve between each kiss is punctuated by a reverent, “I love you.”

When Stiles is satisfied, Derek’s skin is tingling from his touch and the tips of his ears are flushed  pink, his pupils are dilated and there’s a goofy grin curving his lips.

Stiles gives in and kisses him again.

He begins to climb off of Derek, tugging his hand so that he follows Stiles’ lead.

“C’mon Don Lothario, I’m gonna blow you in the shower.”

Interest thoroughly peaked, Derek picks up his pace and gathers Stiles in his arms; the brunette’s laughter bounces off the walls as he’s tossed over his boyfriend’s shoulder.

* * *

 

“Witam, mamusia.”

Stiles bent at the knees and settled himself in front of his mother’s headstone, he retrieved the bouquet, water lilies, her favorite, from its resting place in the picnic basket, and arranged the flowers neatly in front of the grave.

For a moment neither party spoke, Stiles collecting his thoughts, and Derek not wanting to overstep any boundaries, this was their first stop in the graveyard, and although it was sure to be a day charged with emotion, he’d rather it be strictly at the hands of lost loved ones, instead of lovelorn confusion.

Stiles began to speak, filling his mother in on what he’d been up to during the past year, sharing his excitement at nearly finishing his degree, and informing her that his father was still alive, and healthy, when he started talking about Derek, he called his lover forward and introduced them.

“This is Derek, mama, _my_ Derek, he’s-he’s everything to me, he treats me so well mamusia, and he loves me, like you loved dad, I wish you could meet him, mama, I-m-miss you _so_ much.”

Stiles finally gave into his mounting emotions, burying his head in Derek’s shoulder while his body quaked with sobs.

Derek isn’t sure how long they stay in that spot but he keeps his hold on Stiles even when the older man’s crying ceases and he resumes talking to his mother.

Stiles presses a kiss to the cool granite and promises to visit again soon before standing and turning to face Derek.

His boyfriend is already on his feet and he places a steadying hand on the small of Stiles’ back as he guides him further into the cemetery.

They come to a stop a few feet away from Stiles’ mother’s grave, at a headstone already brimming with fresh flowers.

“Stiles, I’d like you to meet Paige.”

* * *

Derek relaxes against his spot nestled into Stiles' side, humming happily when his lover begins to massage his scalp. 

They're spread out on the massive blanket Stiles brought with them, shaded beneath the towering oak that rests in Beacon Park.

During the visit to Paige's grave, Derek promised to give Stiles the full story once they'd settled down for their picnic, he could see the questions swarming his mate's mind and he was grateful that Stiles was willing to stave off his curiosity for the time being.

However, that time had passed, and despite his calm exterior Derek knew Stiles wouldn't be able to hold back for much longer, he allowed himself to bask in the feel of those glorious fingers on his scalp for a few moments longer before he began to speak.

"I met Paige Krasikeva the summer before I finished my bachelor's," Stiles' hands falter for a few seconds but then they continue quickly, massaging and soothing as Derek goes on.

"I had just broken up with my boyfriend at the time, Jackson, and Paige was the bartender at the pub around the corner from my apartment.  She could tell that I was upset about something so she gave me a free round and listened to me go on and on about my douche of an ex."

Derek smiles softly at the memory, Paige had been so full of life then, beautiful and glowing, nothing like she was in the moments leading up to her passing.

"We both got to know each other and built a friendship as time went on, I'd come by to visit her whenever I could and before I knew it we were heading back to my place and falling into bed together. Paige was fun and compassionate, everything I needed after putting up with Jackson's detached brand of intimacy."

Derek pauses, throat tightening as he gets to the heart of the story, "A few months into our relationship, I got a call, it was my mother telling me that my grandfather, her father, had passed, he'd been home alone in the garden, and he had a stroke, my grandma found him when she got back from the market and I-I just couldn't stand it, my papa all alone in his final moments, dying like that and for nana to find him-t-that wasn't how it was supposed to happen."

Stiles kisses the top of his mate's head in sympathy, he wants to pull him into his arms, and hug him, so he knows how loved he is, so he knows its all going to be okay, but he refrains, knowing that Derek isn't finished with his story.

"My grandfather was my hero, my confidant...I was inconsolable, I'd be angry and lash out one minute then I'd break down crying the next, Paige didn't know what to do. I was like that for hours before she told me she could fix it, told me she could make it all better. She went over to her book shelf and took out this really battered almanac,"

Derek remembers looking at Paige like she was fucking insane, how was a book supposed to help him, he remembers getting even angrier, he thought that she wasn't taking him seriously,

"She opened it up and instead of pages it was hollow, inside there were these small baggies, they were filled with cocaine, I just sat there, shocked out of my mind, I mean I was in college, I knew people smoked weed, dropped acid a time or two, but I never knew anyone who did coke. I asked her what the fuck she was doing but she ignored me and started lining it up with the razor she took out of the book. She did a line and then brought it over to me, at first I was completely against it, but she kept telling me that it'd make me feel better, that it was what she did when she needed a pick me up and if I didn't like it she'd never bring it around me again."

Stiles finally stops massaging Derek's scalp, he's in shock, he never imagined that Derek would delve into hard drugs, and to hear that he was brought into it by someone who he cared about and trusted makes his blood boil.

Derek continues, words pouring out in a rush; sloppy and unfiltered.

"It ended up not being that one time, I-got..we were fucking addicted honestly, Paige more so than me, I stopped hanging out with my other friends, I barely ate, barely slept, I'd gotten into the habit of doing it weekly, sometimes multiple times in one day, as time went on I started realizing that a lot of what I thought was just Paige being quirky or spontaneous was actually side effects from the high. I remember I went to the bank to pick up some cash to pay her dealer and when I got back the door to the bathroom was wide open, Paige was on the f-floor, there was fucking blood and vomit everywhere, she wasn't breathing, god, S-Stiles she was s-so _cold._ I picked her up and I carried her to the shower and I got in with her and I turned the water on warm, I thought that if I brought her temperature back up she'd wake up, that she'd be okay. A part of me knew, I knew she was gone, she'd apparently had another stash that she'd dipped into, but she took too fucking much and she had a fucking seizure, she hit her head on the sink and ended up choking on her own vomit. The doctors said that with the state she was in, if she hadn't choked to death, the head injury would've killed her anyway."

Stiles sucks in a breath, what a way to go, poor Derek, one loss after another.

"At her funeral, I promised her that I'd get clean, that I'd go back to school and do all those things we talked about, visit all those places. The semester after rehab, I met Kate, I  still wasn't fully recovered from Paige and she was a welcome distraction. She was Paige's antithesis, everything I thought I needed. I latched on to her, thought she was the one and well we all know how that ended."

Derek huffs out a bitter laugh at that, and then rises so that he's sitting cross-legged diagonal from Stiles.

He bites his lip, unsure of how to proceed, outside of his close family, Stiles was the only one he'd ever told about Paige, he loves him, knows that Stiles loves him in return but he can't help but think of the possible impact this could have on his relationship.

They sit in silence for a few moments before Stiles opens his mouth to speak.

Derek's heart is hammering in his rib cage, and he's sure the whirring in his ears is the sound of his blood rushing by.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Danny is a piece of work huh?  
> And Poor Paige  
> “Witam, mamusia.” means "Hello, mother/mama" in Polish  
> Un'beta'd  
> Thoughts?  
> Thank you all for the comments, kudos, and bookmarks!!! You're my motivation


	15. Baby, Baby, Baby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Un'beta'd as usual, this is another long one to celebrate my freedom from spring semester. We're only five chapters away from the end, can ya'll believe it? This chapter is equal parts hilarious and adorable as far as I'm concerned, I've really underestimated this version of Derek's sheer ability to not give a fuck. Its astounding. Thank you all so much for the comments and kudos and subscriptions! You're all beautiful angels whom I love dearly! Anyway, enough of my chatter, enjoy!

“I’m so sorry, Der, I can’t even imagine-”

Stiles fumbles over his response, there’s so much he wants to say to the point where his words trip over one another, tangling as they tumble out of his mouth.

“-If you ever feel like you need some space or someone to talk to, someone who isn’t me, about Paige or about the addiction or anything at all, I want you to know that I support you, your health comes first and I’ll do whatever I can to facilitate that, I love you, all parts of you, the good, the bad, and the in between. I’m in this for the long haul, baby, you’ve got me, always.”

Derek is reminded once again of how lucky he is to have this man, to be chosen by him, loved by him. His devotion warms him inside and out, wraps around him, swaddling him in security.

He knows that Stiles is it for him, his only, everything he’s ever thought he’d found and so much more, it’s enough to make him delirious, the sweetest high he’s ever known.

So he shows him, in the press of his lips and the caress of his hands, he shows him, Stiles, his _soulmate_ , how grateful he is, and how much he is loved, not only this moment but how Derek plans to love him in every moment after this.

Now it’s Stiles turn to grin dopily, flush faced and slightly dazed.

Derek basks in the sight, unabashedly smug and ever so satisfied; he cups Stiles’ face in his hands, eyes softening as his boyfriend nuzzles into his grip,

“Promise me that you’ll never doubt my love for you, you’re a part of me now, Stiles, never doubt that.”

If possible, Stiles’ face pinkens further and he nods his assent before stilling to offer himself up for another onslaught of Derek’s kisses.

 

* * *

 

“Do you think I should get another pound of flank steak? I know my dad’s gonna sneak a couple pieces in and Laura really liked it when she came to visit, I want there to be enough for seconds. Like yeah, we got the duck, and there’s scallops, and the roast lamb, but what if that’s not enough? Your mom had a massive spread, Der, and that was just for lunch, Jesus, she’s gonna think I’m starving you. Fuck, maybe I should get two pounds then?”

Inquisitive brown eyes turn to stare up at Derek, light catching in the glare of his thick rimmed frames.

Derek can’t resist bending down and bringing their noses together in an Eskimo kiss.

Stiles is just so fucking cute, especially when he gets like this (even more so when he wears his glasses, Derek might have a kink), all flustered and rambling, his words going a mile a minute while he gestures expansively.

The first time Derek saw it happen he’d been worried for Stiles’ health, and maybe slightly aroused, it was hard to not let his mind wander when he realized just how long Stiles could speak without taking a breath.

Now, its commonplace, and in a way kind of comforting, he allows Stiles’ words to wash over him, drinking in the sound of his voice and being sure to note when it was his turn to contribute to the conversation.

Nothing pisses off Stiles faster than when he thinks he’s not being given someone’s full attention, Derek supposes it has something to do with how he was treated in high school, now that he’s more secure in his identity he refuses to allow people to gloss over him like they used to.

Personally, he can’t imagine ever ignoring Stiles, willfully or otherwise, he’s sure his boyfriend’s past classmates are kicking themselves now, he’d pity them but he’s far too happy capitalizing off of their stupidity, no time to sympathize when he has Stiles in his arms, looking at him like he’d stay there forever if he could.

Yeah, Derek couldn’t give a fuck if he tried.

He kisses Stiles again, on the lips this time, and then straightens his glasses on his nose, settling them from where they’d gotten jostled during his rambling.

“Baby, breathe, just one pound is fine, Parrish is bringing over that massive spiral ham too, remember?  We’ll have more than enough for everyone.”

Stiles lets out a sigh of relief, grateful for both the reminder, and the fact that his boyfriend and best-friend were now getting along.

When the pair went to drop off dinner for the Sherriff last night, Jordan pulled Derek aside and apologized, Stiles wasn’t privy to the conversation, but he was happy to let Derek and Jordan have their moment, he wanted their relationship to blossom on its own, free of further influence on his part.

“Right, I forgot about that, okay one pound it is, I know, I’m spazzing, but I really want this dinner to go well, it’s important.”

Derek has been a complete trooper throughout this whole process, carting Stiles around the town as they gathered preparations, and insisting on footing the bill even as the prices stacked higher and higher.

Stiles is pretty sure he has the best boyfriend in the world, hands down.

He’s definitely riding Derek’s dick later, the man’s earned it.

“You’re not spazzing, sugar, I know this is important to you and its important to me too, this dinner is for our families, people we both love and care for, a little bit of panic is understandable. Whatever you need me to do, I’ll do it, okay? I appreciate you doing this, taking on this extra stress so we can all share a meal-”

Derek shakes his head in awe, he’ll never know what he did to earn Stiles.

He decides to tell him as much.

“really, I don't know what I did to deserve you, what we all did, but we’re so grateful and we love you, this dinner is gonna be perfect, you and me? we got this, we’re the fucking dream team.”

Stiles is near boneless by the time Derek’s finished his speech, he’ll never tire of how his man can relax him with no more than a few choice words.

He huffs out a laugh at the dream team comment, and kisses Derek quickly, mindful of their presence in the middle of the frozen section,

“Alright Romeo, I’m gonna go back to the butcher and pick up that extra pound, could you grab the parm from the dairy aisle and then meet me back by the bakery?”

Derek nods his agreement and they split up, but not before his doles out a playful smack to Stiles’ backside.

His boyfriend lets out a surprised squeak,  and gasps out Derek's name, punctuated by a string of expletives.

From what Derek can decipher, the younger man has managed to invent a few disturbingly colorful ways to cause bodily harm with a shopping cart.

Derek smirks, unrepentant, and continues on his merry way.

Stiles isn't fooling anyone, least of all him.

Derek knows he teases him and pushes his buttons on purpose, it's his favorite not so secret method of foreplay.

 

 

* * *

 

He's trying to decide between pre-shaved Parmesan or a whole block when he feels the pin-prick sensation of eyes staring at him.

He ignores the feeling, preferring to focus on the task at hand, _fuck it_ , he thinks and deposits both in his shopping basket.

When he looks up again his gaze locks with a man who appears to be closer to Stiles in age, his skin is a deep bronze and his hair is an artful mess, tousled and swept away from his face.

Something about him nags at Derek, he’s seen this man before, he just can’t place when or where.

The man in question offers up a tentative smile and that’s when Derek recognizes him, _Danny_ , his brain supplies, Stiles' ex.

Derek scowls in response, giving the younger man what Stiles has patented as his “serial killer glare”.

He makes quick work of leaving the scene, Danny’s existence alone tests his patience, he’d rather not have Parrish or even worse, the Sherriff, called to break up a public disturbance.

Although, now that he thinks about it he has no doubt that either man would pardon him, considering the circumstances.

He’s heading in the direction of the bakery to meet Stiles and ever so mindful of the fact that Danny’s decided to follow him.

Frustrated, he whips around to face him, smirking when the man stumbles in order to avoid running into him.

“Are you gonna tell me why you’re following me, Donny? Or am I gonna have to file a complaint with the Sherriff’s office?”

Danny’s face reddens, whether it’s at being misnomered or called out for his stalking Derek isn’t sure, perhaps its both.

“It’s Danny actuall-“

“Didn’t ask.” Derek cuts in, leveling Danny with a look that tells him exactly how much of a fuck he gives.

Hint: the answer rhymes with hero.

Danny gapes for a minute, not accustomed to being rebuked so thoroughly, before steeling his nerves and continuing.

“Right, well, I just wanted to introduce myself again, I know we didn’t get off on the right foot, and I get your concerns, man but I want you to know that I have no intention to take Stiles away from you, I was his first love and that’s hard to give up but I don’t want you to view me as a threat, I really only wanted to say hello.”

The laugh that barks up out of Derek is one of pure unconstrained glee, he sets his basket down on the floor beside him, ignoring the curious stares of the shoppers around him and serrors his hands on his knees to ground himself.

Danny just stands there, confused, and slightly terrified, he’s about to announce his retreat when Derek straightens up, glaring at him in disgust; the sudden change in emotion is enough to give Danny whiplash.

“You really are as dumb as you fucking look, aren’t you David? Let’s just clear this up, Stiles is in no way attached to you, and even if he was I wouldn’t view you as a threat, the fact that you even said such a thing speaks volumes on how far up that head of yours is lodged in your ass. I gotta ask, Dewey, does your ass ever get tired of all the shit that comes out of your mouth? Don’t answer that. It was rhetorical.”

Derek stalks closer to Danny, towering over him, “You may have been Stiles’ first love, but I’m his last, that high school shit show you had doesn’t even compare, I’d tell you to stay away from him, but Stiles can take care of himself, I'm just gonna sit back and watch him tear you a new one.”

As if on que, Stiles walks up to Derek, mouth going a mile a minute, he hasn’t even noticed Danny’s presence yet, he’s telling Derek about the free veal he scored from the butcher when he’s cut off mid rant by a kiss, he lets out a noise of surprise but immediately relaxes into Derek’s hold, clutching the lapels of his leather jacket as his boyfriend kisses the breath out of him.

When he pulls back he’s dazed, lips swollen, pupils blown, and glasses askew, “Guess you really like veal, huh?”

Derek chuckles and that’s when Stiles notices Danny, stuck off to the side and staring at their exchange.

Stiles stiffens, blood running hot, he hands Derek the basket in his hands and marches up to Danny, “I’d say I was happy to see you but I was taught not to lie, what the hell do you want, Daniel?”

In the background, Derek wonders if pride boners are thing. They have to be, he’s this close to chubbing up in the grocery store.

Seeing Stiles all angry really does it for him.

Danny is rendered speechless once more; he’s never been subjected to an angry Stiles, even when they were dating, when Stiles caught him cheating, he never got angry, disappointed maybe, but not this, white hot rage that has Danny’s balls shriveling up in fear.

“I-I wa- wanted to-I was, uh, t-telling Derek that-”

Stiles taps his foot, clearly impatient, and Derek decides to throw the poor lad a bone.

“He was _telling me_ , how he wasn’t a threat, babe, implied that you’re still in love with him but that I shouldn’t worry cause he wasn’t gonna try to “take you away from me”.” Derek parrots, adding finger quotes for effect.

Stiles snorts gracelessly at the very idea and Derek smirks around the grape he lifted from their basket of produce, might as well snack while he watches the show.

The look Stiles gives Danny is a combination of pity and sheer frustration; he runs a hand through his hair and cocks his hip, the universal sign for “Stiles Stilinski is 1000% done with your childish bullshit”.

“I’m gonna say this once, so let’s put that Standford education to good use, shall we?”

Danny could point out that he doesn’t go to Standford anymore, that he flunked out shortly after the demise of their relationship but he’d rather not give Stiles anymore ammunition to rip him apart.

He manages a jerky nod.

The grin Stiles gives him is menacing and all teeth.

Derek continues to eat the grapes, sending Danny a similar grin when he catches his eye.

“I never have, and never will be in love with you, I thought I was, sure, but you think a lot of things when you’re eighteen with a low self esteem, it was childish  infatuation, bordering on a strong like, and in no way compares to what Derek and I have. So no Danny, Derek doesn’t have to worry about you “taking me away from him”, I’m not fucking property and I was never yours to begin with. I mean really, Mahealani, you’ve fucking outdone yourself with this one, the sheer fucking vanity.”

Stiles scoffs at the man before him, unable to fathom what it was he ever saw in him, “I’d advise you to stay away from me and mine, I’d hate to have to let Derek break your fingers.”

He ignores Danny stuttering behind him and instead takes his abandoned basket from Derek’s grasp.

Smirking, he extends his free hand out so they can link their fingers together.

They walk past the bakery and toward the check out, but not before Derek tosses a cheerful, “Bye, Denny’s!” over his shoulder.

 

* * *

 

 

“Laur, can you grab the rolls out of the oven, I’ll finish up the salad and then we can eat.”

Laura groans in relief, “Thank god, I’m fucking starving!”

The sound of her mother’s disapproval floats into the kitchen from the dining room and Laura mumbles to herself moodily, never too old to be reprimanded by Talia Hale.

He wants to snicker but he manages to hold it in less he incur her wrath, after all this is the same Talia Hale who was gracious enough to loan them her massive kitchen and dining room so they could appropriately host this dinner, he’s not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

At this point Stiles was damn near in love with the entire Hale clan, well sans Peter, that guy could go fuck himself.

The doorbell chimes as Stiles finishes adding the cherry tomatoes and crumbled feta to the salad, it must be his dad he thinks, the Sherriff said he was finishing up something important, giving Stiles advanced warning that he’d be one of the last to arrive.

Stiles grabs the vinaigrette for the salad, and tucks a pair of serving tongs into the bowl, heading into the dining room.

The sight before him has him stumbling to a stop.

He would’ve dropped the items in his hands had Derek not swooped in to steady him.

Standing by the entrance to the dining room, flanked by his father, Scott and Isaac, is the one and only red-headed goddess, his other partner in crime, Miss Lydia Martin.

“Scotty? Isaac? Lyds? What are you guys doing here? Not that I’m not happy to see you but-what?”

Lydia smirks, while Scott and Isaac giggle and snort respectively,

“Ask that hunky boyfriend of yours, he emailed me last night with a ticket confirmation.”

Scott and Isaac nod along to Lydia’s statement, “Yeah, its all Derek, he sent a car to pick us up.”

Derek stands sheepishly next to him, embarrassed by the sudden attention, “Surprise?”

Stiles gapes at him, eyes wide and overcome with emotion.

Laura smothers a snort with her hands, and walks over to retrieve the salad bowl and vinaigrette from Stiles’ rapidly loosening grip, nudging him back to reality she turns away.

“Derek Anthony Hale, you beautiful fuh- _freaking_ -” He eyes Talia and his father wearily

“-man, I love you so much, how did you even sneak this by me?”

Derek smiles, happy to have pleased his soulmate, “I’ve become pretty adept at distracting you by now.”

He’s mid leer when he realizes that they’re still in mixed company.

In an instant all the color drains from his face.

He chances a look at Stiles’ father and the Sherriff taps his gun belt with a wink, Laura notices the exchange and guffaws while Isaac leans on to Scott for support as he shakes with laughter. Lydia merely raises a brow, lips curled at the corners.

Its Talia who takes pity on them and calls dinner into session, ignoring her husband’s laughter as Parrish walks in from the bathroom, frowning in confusion as he asks, “What’d I miss?”

 

* * *

 

 

Dinner is a success, and Stiles is happy to have broken his losing streak.

After the dishes are cleared away they all settle down to nurse their aching bellies, clutching cups of hot chocolate or plates of tiramisu.

John is talking about the upcoming local election with Derek’s parents and a few of his aunts and uncles so the others  quickly excuse themselves, all except for Cora and Addelaine who plan on building up service hours by volunteering for the Sherriff’s campaign.

The young adults make camp in the parlor, catching up and in some cases getting to know one another better, that means you Lydia and Jordan, Stiles can just hear the wedding bells chiming in the distance.

He’s planning his best man speech when a tug on his sleeve pulls him from his thoughts, at first he thinks its Derek but the older man’s arms are wrapped snugly around his mid section, securing Stiles’ position on his lap, and that aside, Derek is engaged in a heated discussion about Proust with his cousin Maddie, Laura, and Isaac.

Whomever it is tugs on Stiles’ sleeve again and he whips his head from side to side before sliding his gaze down.

Peering at him from behind the arm of the couch is Derek’s youngest cousin, Nathan, Stiles smiles at the three year old, turning in Derek's grip so that they’re face to face, “Hey little man, what’re you doing up?”

Nathan smiles in return before scrunching his nose up in a frown, “Wan’ to shleep ‘Tiles, but B-Beth said just one story but I need t-two, U-uncle Dewek always re-reads me two.”

The toddler tugs on his inky black hair in frustration and Stiles' heart melts, the youngling is a splitting image of his older cousin and Stiles is sure that he’s a preview of what he and Derek’s children would look like.

“Aw, sweetheart, I’m sorry, c’mere, Uncle Stiles’ll read to you, okay?”

Stiles taps on Derek’s hands, urging the other man to release him, and then he stands, scooping Nathan up and into his arms, “Alright bud, how ‘bout two more stories this time, huh?”

Nathan nods excitedly and snuggles into the hollow of Stiles’ throat, clutching at his shirt, “Tank you, Uncle ‘Tiles, c-can Uncle Dewek c-come too?”

The man in question rises from his spot on the couch and rubs a soothing hand over his baby cousin’s back, “Of course I can, baby, we’ll tuck you in and everything, alright?”

The boy nods once more, a bit bashful but happy to have the full attention of his two favorite “uncles”.

Stiles coos and presses a kiss to each of his chubby cheeks, murmuring soft words of encouragement and praise.

The sight brings Derek to a pause and he’s overwhelmed with the sudden desire for kids of his own, _their kids_ , he knows Stiles would make an excellent father, sees it in the way he is with Nathan and the other children in the Hale family, in his patience, his kindness, and his unflinching will to protect everyone he holds dear.

Derek knows then what he must do; has never been more sure of anything in his life, his only hope now is that Stiles is as sure as he is.

Both Stiles and Nathan are calling his name so he abandons his thoughts for now, following them down the hall to the guest bedroom.

He’ll have time for planning later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay but how fucking cute was that last scene? I swear if this wasn't a human verse I'd write m-preg all up in this, but alas, I must refrain. I feel a Dom/Sub or Alpha/Omega verse on the horizon once this is finished.  
> I wonder what Derek is planning...?  
> I'll be going back and re reading and checking for any grammar/spelling mistakes but feel free to point em out if/when you find 'em.  
> Next chapter they're back in Berkeley territory, I'll update again next Monday (or maybe earlier depending on my work schedule)  
> Comments? Questions? Concerns?


	16. I've got a question

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, this week has been a whirlwind, here's the update, later than promised but I do apologize. Hopefully all the fluff makes up for it!  
> Thank you for your comments, bookmarks, kudos, and subscriptions, you guys are the best and I love hearing from you all!  
> Un'beta'd as usual  
> Enjoy!

One hour.

Sixty minutes.

Thirty-six hundred seconds.

In an hour, the love of his life would walk through that door and Derek would propose.

He had it all planned out, meticulously, he wanted it to be perfect. It had to be, Stiles deserved nothing less. Also, he was pretty sure if he fucked this up Lydia would never let him live it down.

No pressure.

The trill of the oven’s timer shakes him from his thoughts and he rushes into the kitchen, holding his breath as he pulls the roast out of the oven, he tests the meat with a thermometer, pleased to find that its reached the desired medium rare.

He sets the beef aside to rest and checks on the side dishes; rosemary and thyme infused whipped potatoes, asparagus with shaved parmesan and prosciutto, and a light fig and apricot salad.

Dessert is a tangerine crème brulee; a recipe of the late Claudia Stilinski, courtesy of the Sherriff.

It was Stiles’ favorite and John had been more than happy to share the recipe with Derek after the younger man expressed his intentions. He’d been expecting the conversation ever since the family dinner at the Hale mansion; clearly Derek was more transparent than he thought.

Derek suspected that there was some sort of bet riding on their impending engagement, he knew he heard the good Sherriff muttering something about being one hundred dollars richer while locating the brulee recipe.

He was sure Isaac and Laura had something to do with it, the bastards.

A quick glance at the clock above the fridge tells him that he’s got forty-five minutes left, just enough time to take a shower and get the last details into place.

Satisfied that dinner is secured, he walks back out into the dining room, he’s transformed it into a romantic scene set for two. White lilies (Stiles’ favorite) line the table, crystal encased vanilla scented candles mark the head and end of the table and the china is a family heirloom, a gift from Derek’s mother.

The final touches are white rose petals, scattered from the entrance to the table, the melodic sound of a mix Cora specifically made for this night, and the dimming of the lights, yielding the room to a warm glow casted by the flickering candles.

Derek surveys the area one last time before heading up the staircase that leads to their bedroom, on their duvet is his outfit of choice, a green Henley that Stiles himself bought Derek for his birthday, and his most form fitting black jeans, they do sinful things to his ass (Stiles’ words not his) and his (hopefully) soon to be fiancé can never keep his hands off of him when he wears them.

 The gentle spray of the shower eases a bit of the tightness in his back and he allows the warmth of the water to wash over him, willing his anxiety to swirl down the drain along with the suds.

Once he’s clean, he grabs a towel from the rack and wraps it loosely around his waist before heading to the sink, the mirror above it is fogged so he extends a hand to wipe till it clears, tilting his head thoughtfully as his bearded face comes into view.

He’d toyed with the idea of shaving completely but Stiles adores his scruff and who is Derek to deny his mate?

The delicious beard burn that’s currently mottling Stiles’ inner thighs is also an added bonus.

And oh Christ, there’s an image, one that he needs to abandon immediately if he has any hope of putting those jeans on in a comfortable manner.

After getting dressed (and cursing his traitorous dick into submission), Derek heads into their closet and retrieves the most important item of the night.

Tucked into the inner pocket of Derek’s favorite leather jacket is Stiles’ engagement ring.

When he retrieves the box, the weight of it settles into his palm, heavy and grounding, it makes the situation all too real and he swallows down the panic bubbling within.

He loves Stiles, is in love with him, and logically, knows that the love is reciprocated, plentifully and without hesitation _but_ …

 _But_ , a voice chimes in, it sounds suspiciously like Kate, there’s always the possibility that Stiles could say no, that even though he loves Derek, he doesn’t want to marry him, that he’s happy with the way things are and doesn’t see the point in changing things. That he doesn’t want to end up as another person who wouldn’t meet Derek down the aisle.

The thought alone is devastating, he knows what it would do to him, knows that if Stiles says no he’d never bring it up again, he’d do whatever it took just to keep Stiles with him. It’s irrational and dangerous, the power that Stiles holds over him, but that’s love, that’s trusting Stiles with that power and believing that he’d never abuse it, that he’d always do his best to ensure Derek’s happiness, and that he’d enjoy doing so.

Thinking about Stiles calms him, as it always does, and he pushes his more macabre thoughts to the side as he exits the closet, ring in hand.

 

* * *

 

 

Downstairs, he heads straight for the kitchen and e places the box in the cabinet above the sink where the dessert plates are kept, he plans on proposing when he brings out dessert, if worse comes to worse he’ll have a delicious crème brulee to fall back on.

The sound of Stiles’ key fitting into the lock rouses him into action and he rushes out of the kitchen toward the entryway, eager to greet his boyfriend.

Stiles was loaded with all the coursework indicative of his final year of undergrad and the pair hardly had a chance to spend time together these past two weeks.

It was helpful in securing the surprise but Derek missed his soulmate terribly and was more than ready to spend a quiet night in, just the two of them.

As usual, the brunet was prattling off about his day, so caught up in his ramblings and the unlacing of his boots that he barely noticed his surroundings.

Derek smirked and stood off to the side, waiting patiently for his boyfriend to catch on.

The freckled youth pulled off his shoes with a crow of victory and finally looked up, jaw going slack and words tapering off as his amber eyes scanned around their apartment.

Still smirking, Derek walked up to the other man and helped him out of his coat before taking his hand and leading him toward the dining table, he guided Stiles toward his side of the table and pulled his chair out, pausing when he felt the pressure of a hand on his wrist.

“Der…what-this is…” Stiles questioned, eyes seeming to sparkle as they bounced off the glowing candles.

Derek silenced him with a gentle kiss, keeping their lips together as he cradled Stiles’ jaw in his palm.

When he felt his mate relax in his grip he broke the kiss but kept their faces close together, his own eyes softening as he saw the love reflected in the gaze before him.

“This is for you, you’ve had a tough few weeks and I miss you, I figured we could spend the night in.”

Stiles answering smile was blinding and Derek preened at the sight, always proud to be the source of his lover’s happiness.

“You’re something else you know that? Consider me wooed, Cassanova.”

A bright laugh burst from between his lips and he raised a taunting brow at the man before him,

“Just wait until you see what I made for dinner.”

Stiles eyes widened dramatically and he bounced in his seat, “Well what are you waiting for, Romeo, I’m starving!”

Derek snorted and shook his head before turning to retrieve their dinner from the kitchen, before he could go, Stiles stopped him again, eyes soft and voice devoid of the teasing lilt from seconds prior,

“I love you, Derek Hale, thank you for this, I don’t-”

Derek shushed him with another kiss and returned the sentiment, promising that there’d be more than enough time to thank him later.

 

* * *

 

 

Derek doled out equal servings of each dish and set them down on the table, grinning when Stiles ooh’d and aaah’d over his presentation.

The couple used the meal to catch up, pausing between bites to ask a question or shoot out a remark, it was pleasant and everything they needed after a period of rushed goodbyes and sleep whispered hellos.

All too soon the main course came to an end, and with it came the return of Derek’s nerves.

He’d started fidgeting a bit in his seat and as soon as Stiles plate was clear he rushed away with it into the kitchen, hoping his boyfriend didn’t notice anything off about his behavior.

Derek said a quick prayer before retrieving the ring from the cabinet and sliding it into the pocket of his restricting denim.

He gathered up the brulees and headed back into the dining room where Stiles was waiting for him patiently.

Greedy brown eyes latched on to the dessert and Stiles made grabby hands at his lover, mouth dropping open in shock when he realized exactly what lay before him.

“Derek Anthony Hale, you beautiful wonderful man, please tell me that this isn’t mother’s tangerine crème brulee. Tell me it isn’t, because if it is we’re going to skip dessert and I’m gonna ride you ‘til the sun comes up.”

A deep blush settled across Derek’s cheeks and he adjusted his pants discreetly, silently cursing Stiles’ effect on him.

He took a breath in through his nose and forced it out through his mouth, calming himself before speaking.

“You mentioned it on Valentine’s Day, and I promised myself that I’d get it from him after we met, it actually wasn’t the only thing he gave me…”

Stiles quirks a brow in question, silently urging Derek to continue.

The elder of the two rose from his seat and pulled the box from the confines of his pocket, he paused at Stiles’ side before bending to one knee in the brunet’s direction.

Stiles’ dessert fork clatters to the ground.

“D-Derek-holy shit-Derek?!..”

The man in question reaches out to run a thumb across his lover’s cheek,

“Breathe baby, I’ll tell you everything you need to know just breathe for me.” Derek says, grinning when Stiles huffs in response.

“E-easy for you to s-say, Mr. Cool.”

Derek merely arches a brow and continues speaking as if Stiles hadn’t interrupted him.

He pops open the lid hiding the ring and snorts when Stiles lets out a “ _Holy fuck_ ” in response.

“He didn’t just give me the recipe, Stiles. He gave me his blessing, and with that came this.”

Derek punctuates his statement by pulling the ring from its sheath, holding it closer for Stiles’ inspection.

The engagement band is a stacked double band, the base of the ring is modern but understated, a gleaming platinum band, the top portion is what really takes Stiles breath away. It’s his mother’s band, the one his father gave to her on their wedding day, the same one he thought she lost during the height of her dementia.

The band itself has been restored to its former glory; swirls of silver and platinum weaving together in a haloed Celtic Knot. The inscription on the inner rim remains the same, “Znalazłem brakującą połowę duszy , moja miłość do Ciebie , zawsze.”

A shaking hand reaches out toward the ring but falters, waiting for his mate to continue.

“I love you, Stiles Stilinski, I’m in love with you. You are my soul mate, my guiding light, everything I’m not and everything I could ever be. I’m so grateful for you, for your love, its unflinching and unconditional, it humbles me and fills me with such pride, I wake up every morning, happy to know that it’s another day with you by my side. I’m asking you, baby, beseechingly so, would you do me the honor, the _privilege_ of accepting this ring, will you be mine in the eyes of the law? Stiles-”

Derek sucks in a breath, face earnest and sure,

“Will you marry me?”

The passing seconds seem like hours as Derek anxiously awaits the answer, nerves building as Stiles sits still.

Suddenly, as if finally catching up with the moment, the man begins bobbing his head rapidly fumbling for words as he sticks out his ring finger,

“Yes! Holy fucking hell, baby, yes! A-are you fucking kidding me? Oh my god, c’mere Derek, I swear to _god_ , you make me so fucking happy-I’m so fucking lucky give me my fucking ring so I can kiss you!”

Derek does as told, admiring the sight of the ring on Stiles’ finger before he finds himself with a lap full of vibrating freckle skinned human.

Stiles peppers kisses across Derek’s face, doling out “I love you’s” after each press of lips, Derek merely holds him tight and relishes in the affection.

This is his Stiles, his fiancée and damn if it doesn’t feel good to say that.

 

* * *

 

 

The pair remain camped out on the floor as Stiles gushes over his ring in between feeding bites of crème brulee.

They’ll inform everyone within the week and he knows Lydia will plan the engagement party; Derek’s pretty sure she’s already booked a venue.

He shakes away the thought with a gentle laugh, he’ll have time to worry about that later, right now, his main focus is the feel of Stiles in his arms, and the warmth of his eyes as they radiate happiness.

Everything else can wait.

Well, almost everything.

“Hey, baby...” Derek murmurs.

Stiles pauses in between a bite of dessert and tilts his head in inquiry,

“What would you say if I knew of a really fun way to earn us some honeymoon spending money?”

The brunet looks even more confused at the question but the wolfish grin on Derek’s face sends a thrill of excitement up his spine.

He matches the man’s grin with one of his own,

“I’d say bring it on fiancé o’mine.”

 

 

* * *

 

They invite everyone over for poker night and win all the money earned from the “When is Derek gonna propose?” betting pool.

Four-hundred dollars to be exact.

Isaac sulks for the next three days.

They’re not the least bit sorry.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was it cute? Did I nail the feels? I've never written a scene like that before so I'm hoping it was the right balance of loving and funny, I wanted to make sure Stiles and Derek's characterization held true, they're romantics of course, but they're still total goofballs.  
> I'd love to hear your thoughts. Thanks for reading!


	17. Steady as she goes

The sight of Peter Hale standing on his welcome mat is one Stiles would rather gouge his eyes out than have to face.

He decides to tell him as much before slamming the door shut, well more like attempting to, the bastard stuck his hand out to block the movement at the last second.

Stiles huffs, this is his first Saturday off in god knows how long, he’d planned on spending it in bed with his fiancé, having lots of engagement sex, many times, in many different positions.

He’s not quite sure if engagement sex is any different from regular boyfriend sex but goddamnit if he wasn’t ready to find out, all he had to do was shoo this gremlin away from his door.

Stiles snorts internally at the thought, Peter the gremlin, sounds like a shitty children’s book.

Hand still gripping the edge of the door frame, the older man cuts into Stiles’ thoughts, pinning him with what Stiles assumes is an attempt at looking earnest.

If you were to ask him he’d say Peter looked more constipated than anything else.

Peter opens his mouth to speak but before he can get a word out Stiles begins tapping his foot, loudly.

“You little-”

Peter’s retort dies on his tongue as quick as it came and he takes a shuddering breath, the clenching and unclenching of his right fist is visible, he’s clearly willing himself to calm down.

Stiles hums thoughtfully, he’s rather impressed by the older man’s restraint. From what he gathered from Derek, he and Peter should’ve been throwing blows right about now.

Guess you can teach old dog’s new tricks.

Peter begins speaking again, this time ignoring Stiles’ tapping, his voice is calm and steady when he speaks, measured as though he’s rehearsed what he’s about to say.

“I’ve come to apologize-”

Stiles snorts.

“-I realize that what I did was wrong, selfish of me, love or not I violated Derek in the cruelest of ways, I abused his trust-“

“Understatment.” Stiles cuts in.

“-I hurt someone I care about, someone I love deeply, not just as my nephew but as my good friend, my little Derek, my actions showed him how unworthy I was of the faith he put in me, I know I don’t deserve it but I’ve come seeking forgiveness, and if I can be so bold, to offer my blessing-”

“Your blessing?! You son of a-” Stiles can feel the tips of his ears burning, bright red and hot with indignation.

Peter holds up both hands, palms out in surrender.

“I know you neither need or want it, but I-I need Derek to know how happy I am for him, I need him to know that I will never attempt to meddle with his happiness again.” Peter’s tone is pleading now, his blue eyes are rounded and glassy, this time, Stiles thinks, he actually does look earnest.

Stiles shakes his head, eyes rolling up to meet the ceiling, he can’t believe he’s about to do this.

“I cannot fucking believe I’m doing this, Derek is gonna rip both of our fucking throats out.”

He leans back and opens the door wider, gesturing for Peter to cross the threshold.

The second eldest Hale rakes his fingers through his tawny brown hair before following Stiles into the living room, surprise and anxiety radiating off him in waves.

“Thank you, Stiles, I really-I can’t tell you how much-“

Stiles stalks over to Peter, poking him in the chest with the point of his index finger, effectively halting his speech.

“I’m not doing this for you, Peter, so keep your goddamn thank you. I’m doing this for Derek, he’s been tortured by this long enough, he deserves a fucking apology. I’m only going to tell you this once so crank your hearing aide up and really fucking listen.”

Peter gulps in response, managing a wordless nod.

Stiles’ eyes have narrowed into slits and the finger poking Peter in the chest seems to be hell bent on cracking his ribs.

“When Derek gets here he’s going to be pissed, he has every fucking right to be, he’s going to yell, tell you to get the hell out of our home, shit, he might even hit you. You’re not gonna do a goddamn thing, you’re gonna stand there and take it, you fucking earned it Peter, and when he’s done, you’re gonna stay there with your tail between your legs, you’re gonna beg for his forgiveness, get on your knees, cry if you need to, I don’t care but you’re gonna do it and you’re gonna be fucking honest with him. Youre gonna tell him everything you told me. If Derek feels even the slightest bit unsure of your sincerity, I’m gonna find you and kick your ass myself, Peter. Listen to me, do I sound like I’m fucking joking?”

Peter wheezes out a no around the pain radiating from his chest.

Stiles smirks in response.

The sound of the locks clicking open carry into the living room and Stiles removes his finger, smirk widening at the sigh of relief Peter lets out.

He steps back and crosses his arms over chest, readying himself for Derek’s onslaught.

“Baby, I’m back! How about we go to that diner you love for breakfast? I just need to shower firs-“

Derek pauses at the arch leading to the living room, smile slipping off of his face at the sight of his uncle.

If possible, Peter’s posture tightens up even further, it looks as though he’s trying to retreat into his body.

Stiles would laugh if he wasn’t sure Derek would kill him for it.

Speaking of Derek.

His fiancé strides over to him, standing in front of him and blocking him from Peter’s view; effectively shielding him from the other man.

A fond smile tugs at his lips, even when Derek’s pissed at him, Stiles’ safety and wellbeing are always his main priority.

Time for some serious damage control.

He cups Derek’s sweaty face in his palm and reaches a hand up to rub at the perspiration cooling along his hairline, damp from his morning run.

Derek yields to his ministrations but his scowl remains in place.

“Stiles, what in the fuck is he doing here?” Derek’s words come out in a growl and Stiles fights back a shiver of delight, now is really not the time.

The freckled man nuzzles his nose against his fiancé’s jaw, breathing in the scents of pine, and musk, and Derek as he formulates a response.

“Baby, please, just hear him out, you can kick him out after, but just listen to him please, Der, you need this.” Stiles tone is pleading, amber eyes soft as they gaze up into mosaic ultramarine.

Derek wants to say fuck no, wants to kick Peter out on his ass and be angry at Stiles for letting him into their home.

It’s Stiles’ tone that stops him, his mate loathed Peter almost as much as he did, but here he was, pleading with Derek to hear him out.

Derek sighs, ducking his head to drop a gentle kiss onto Stiles’ pouty lips.

All is forgiven.

He turns to face Peter, posture tightening once more as he mirrors the position Stiles held moments earlier, arms crossed tightly against his chest.

“Well, what do you have to say for yourself?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting closer and closer to the end guys, I'm excited, we're not quite out of the angst woods just yet so hold onto your hats.
> 
> Thank you all for the comments and kudos and subscriptions, you all motivate me and I love how much you care about this little story of mine. I really couldn't do it without you guys.
> 
> What do you all think of Peter? Should Derek forgive him? 
> 
> Tell me what ya think


	18. Longview

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short one, it picks up right where the last chapter left off, I had more but it felt right to end it here, I didn't want any emotional overlap from this scene leaking into the last two chapters, that being said, the last two are gonna pretty long ones. I want to thank you all for your feedback last chapter, regarding Derek and his handling of Peter, I took everything into consideration and I think that the situation will be handled true to Derek's character (well this version of him anyway)  
> Enjoy!

Peter stills, having not expected Derek to give him the opportunity to speak. He’s thrown for a minute, mind racing as he scrambles for words.

His nephew’s jaw tightens and he knows that his already thin patience is about to dissolve.

“I’ve come to apologize.”

Derek’s brow lifts, but otherwise his face remains impassive, pale eyes burrowing holes into Peter’s skull.

Stiles, Peter notices has retreated into the corner behind Derek, legs crossed at the ankles, pale arms clasped in front of him.

He’s given the relatives a semblance of privacy, removing himself from the situation but remaining a gentle presence, a reminder for his mate.

Peter steps forward, closing a bit of the distance between Derek and himself, the younger man remains muted to the spot but his brows furrow dangerously in warning.

Artic blue eyes scan Derek in his entirety, taking in the tight set of his jaw and shoulders, the bulge of his corded forearms as the muscles flex and unflex with each movement.

Derek looks nothing like the gap tooth youth who trailed him around all those years ago, whining for piggy back rides or an extra story, always eager for his favorite uncle’s time and affection.

Peter knows he can only blame himself, he abused Derek’s trust, sullied their relationship for a closeted romp.

He loves Kate, there’s no denying it, but if he could, he would go back, rebuke her flirtations, explain the situation to Derek, he’s sure Derek would’ve understood, grudgingly so, but he would’ve listened.

Maybe he wouldn’t have talked to Peter for a few weeks, months even, but it would have been better than this, the silent hell that’s encompassed them for the past few years.

The weight of his transgressions press down upon him and Peter sucks in shuddering breath, eyes stinging with the promise of tears, “I’m so sorry, Derek, I’m selfish, an absolute pig, I ruined us, I-I broke your heart and I will never forgive myself. I took advantage of your trust and kindness, I d-don’t deserve to call you my kin, if I could go back, I wouldn’t even look at her, Derek, least of all do what I did, I’m a hypocrite, preaching to you about love and following the heart but if I had any decency in me, any worth at all, I wouldn’t have hurt you. You don’t do that to people you love, Ant, I’m sorry.”

Derek’s eyes softened at the sound of his childhood nickname, he almost couldn’t remember the last time Peter used it. The moniker doubled as an abbreviation for Derek’s middle name and a descriptor for what his uncle dubbed as his spirit animal.

Peter used to say that Derek was like a little ant, tiny and pesky, always showing up where you least expected, unannounced and hard to lose.

“I know that I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I’ve always been a selfish man, so I’m asking for it, begging, I want to be apart of your life, Derek, both of you,” His eyes flick toward Stiles who remains in the corner, the younger man offers him a tilt of the head before casting his gaze back to his fiance.

“I want to be able to come to your wedding, to make a toast, I want to be there when you two bring a new addition to our family, I want a little pup to call me uncle, I want my pup to know you not only as their cousin but as their godfather,” Peter bites his lip after the admission, worrying the flesh between his teeth before releasing it to speak, “should you accept, I want to be your Peter again, worthy of your love and trust.”

Peter releases a breath, shoulders sagging as he finishes his speech.

Both sets of eyes are trained on Derek awaiting his reaction. Seconds pass at a snail's pace, minutes seeming like hours.

Finally, Derek responds in action, uncrossing his arms as he sets into motion, he begins walking toward the front door, casting a glance behind himself to be sure that Peter’s following.

He opens the door wide enough for Peter to slip past, his uncle’s half way down the hall when Derek calls his name,

“I’ll be in touch.”

Peter’s offered smile is wavering, watery at best, “I look forward to it, Ant.”

Derek watches as his uncle’s figure disappears around the corner, defenses crumbling as the man gets closer and closer to the exit.

Once he’s gone, Derek closes the door to the apartment, resting his forehead against it as he tries to catch his breath, his fingers slide along the wood, turning into fists as his body shakes with the aura of oncoming sobs.

Strong arms wrap around his middle and Derek sinks into the touch, allowing Stiles to bear most of his weight as their bodies slide down to the floor.

His fiance lays with him, uncaring of the hardwood pressing into his back, soothing him with gentle touches, and soft words, a tangible guide through his field of grief.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we have somewhat of an ambiguous ending, but I'll be tying up loose ends in the last two chapters, so don't worry about that. Derek needs time to process the apology and actually let it sink in, it's a bit unrealistic, given his character, and the circumstances to expect an automatic answer, but the fact that he even listened to Peter and shared those parting words give you a bit of insight, I'm not saying he's going to forgive him and they're going to be best buddies again but Derek is a family man, the bit about their future children had a major impact on his decision.  
> I'll be happy to give you guys some more clarification or a little insight, especially since it's not really entering spoiler territory  
> Thank you guys for all your comments and kudos and bookmarks, I look forward to hearing from you!


	19. Summer Lovin'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's short and sweet, the final chapter is gonna be a bit of a doozy, I'm trying to make it extra special for you guys. Enjoy!

“I think that’s good, just bend a little for me, baby.”

Derek tilts his head as instructed, closing his eyes and sighing as Stiles pours warm water over his shampooed locks.

The pair are pressed together in their hexagonal tub, Derek’s back to Stiles’ front.

The soothing scents of jasmine and rose permeate the air, intensified by the heat radiating from the flickering candles lining the sink.

Once all traces of shampoo are gone, Stiles grabs Derek’s favorite tea tree conditioner from the adjoining shelf, squeezing a generous amount into his palm before working it through his inky strands.

Talented fingers comb through the dark crop of hair, working out tangles and applying pressure in a soothing scalp massage.

Derek groans at the feeling, hissing in pleasure as his fiancé moves his ministrations downward, working out the kinks in his neck and shoulders.

Stiles grins at his lover’s response, pausing only to nip affectionately at the Castile clean skin behind his right ear.

Fragrant steam continues to curl around their bodies as the minutes pass by; Stiles is content to continue bathing and massaging every inch of his mate’s skin and Derek indulges in the careful attention, pressing himself closer with every caress.

Derek’s lips are parted slightly, eyes closed and mile long lashes clumped and curled together, damp with water and casting light shadows along his cheeks. His expressive brows are smoothed out in relaxation, only arching when Stiles relieves a particularly stubborn knot.

He looks nothing like he did an hour earlier, wrapped up in Stiles’ arms, face twisted in agony, Stiles is both relieved and enraged all at once.

Relived because he managed to provide his fiancé with some much needed comfort, but furious at both himself and Peter for playing a part in Derek’s grief.

He thought hearing Peter apologize would be helpful for Derek, providing him with the closure needed to free himself from the everlasting insecurities and doubt Peter and Kate produced with their depraved actions.

 _A lot of good that did_. He thought bitterly.

Instead Derek was subjected to what was perhaps the most self-serving and disingenuous speech in modern history.

Stiles couldn’t believe Peter would attempt to pass it off as anything other than that. He wanted to rip the man’s throat out, _with his teeth_.

“-him, you know. M’not that gullible.”

Stiles blinked quickly, trying to decipher what Derek was mumbling.

He bent down to kiss the corner of his plush mouth, smiling when Derek turned his head to get a full kiss.

“Can you repeat that for me, Der, I didn’t catch that first bit.” Stiles breathed out after they broke the kiss.

Derek huffed out an exaggerated breath, yelping when Stiles playfully tugged on his hair in retaliation.

“I _said_ , you big bully, that I didn’t believe him, Peter, I know when he’s not telling the whole truth, he’s sorry but more for himself than for what he and Kate did. I want nothing to do with him, not until he can come to me honestly, what he did is not something to be taken lightly, maybe I’ll be able to forgive him some day, maybe after our kids are born, but I won’t forget. Mom disowned him, you know? Cora says he keeps calling and calling but she just hangs up on him. It’s just him and Kate now, just like he wanted.”

Stiles is relieved, he knows how much of a family man Derek is, his fiancé putting himself first is something of a rarity, and he’s warmed to find that he’s no longer martyring himself for his scumbag uncle.

“I’m proud of you, baby. You’re so strong, stronger than you’re given credit for.”

Derek flushes at the praise, tips of his ears flushing a delicious pink, he hums out a thanks before tilting his chin up expectantly, lips pursed and eager for more kisses.

 

* * *

 

“Its not too late for Vegas you know.” Stiles faux whispers to his fiancé, grinning when Lydia pauses her current tirade (water lilies or peonies for the centerpieces at the reception dinner), to glare him into submission.

He snorts at the attempt, he’s going to marry Derek Hale, the king of bitch face, Lydia was going to have to do better than that if she wanted to scare him.

Derek rolls his eyes at the exchange, and tucks Stiles closer to his side, pressing a possessive kiss to the side of his head.

Stiles lets out a pleased hum and sticks his tongue out at his best friend, nearly biting it off with a yelp when Derek pinches his side.

He shoots a wounded look toward his husband to be, pouting even further when the older man tells him to play nice.

“M’sorry Lyds, I’m just getting a little antsy, how about this? We add the peonies to the arch, the flower girl’s bouquet, and the flower boy’s lapel adornment and then we’ll have floating water lilies on the tables, in the crystal bowls.”

Lydia purses her lips in thought, mulling over Stiles’ suggestion before acquiescing and making a note in her planner.

“I didn’t think you had it in you, Stilinski, there may be hope for this wedding after all.”

Stiles winks and finger guns her in response, relishing in her groan and Derek’s pleased snort.

 

* * *

 

“Uncle ’Tiles I made this for you and Uncle Dewek, its us at yours weddings, ‘das me and Abigail and you and Dee, Aunty Cora said to draw tears for Uncle Dewek ‘cause he’s a saps but I told her no ‘cause Uncle Dewek is Batman and Batman never cries.”

Stiles grins as Nathan explains the picture to him, chuckling as the toddler’s chubby arms flap about in his excitement.

“This is beautiful babylove, thank you so much, your uncle and I are gonna hang it up at our place, I’ll pick a really pretty frame and put it next to our engagement portrait so everyone can see it, how does that sound?”

His soon to be nephew nods shyly earning himself a coo and kiss on the cheek from his Uncle “Tiles”.

After storing the picture in Nathan’s bookshelf for safekeeping, Stiles picks the tot up and hitches him on his left hip making a mental note to retrieve the artwork after reading Nate his bedtime story.

“Alright honey bunny, your uncle promised us brownies, let’s go see if we can get him to let us lick the spoon.”

Nathan giggled excitedly, sighing in contentment when Stiles nuzzled their noses together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the kudos, subs, and comments, I love interacting with you all.  
> Raise your hand if you wanna adopt Nathan, he's just so damn cute.


	20. Finding Forever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've reached the end folks, this final chapter includes the wedding, reception, honeymoon sex, and a bit of something sweet at the end. Its a long one and I've embedded images to make it extra special for you all. I want to thank you for taking this journey with me, I couldn't have done it without your support, my only hope is that finale does the fic and its characters justice. I wouldn't be opposed to writing some one shots in this verse in the future so feel free to request them. Without further ado, enjoy!

The orchestra hummed to life, serenading the awaiting crowd with Wagner’s “Bridal Chorus”. The guests turned in their seats, craning their necks for a better view of the advancing wedding procession.

 

[Derek ](http://media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m7ygsip6Am1rsh7cm.gif)sucks in a breath, nerves thrumming beneath his skin, pulsing in tune with the symphony.

 

[Laura ](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/B-2h5DKXAAAewNE.jpg)leads the procession, [bouquet](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/83/f2/be/83f2bed4395f33db779b18d156800503.jpg) in hand, _fresh white lilies at Lydia’s insistence_ ; her boyfriend and one of Derek’s oldest friend’s,[Boyd](https://www.clichemag.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/IMG_3663done.jpg), has his arm looped through hers.

 

The juxtaposition of the pair is stunning; in a rare sight, Laura’s [hair ](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/6c/41/77/6c4177acda85d36eaa84d22e4a223916.jpg) was up and away from her face. Her [dress ](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/75/0d/05/750d057ad35a4b167d60057141f5976b.jpg)was a soft blue, almost periwinkle, and Grecian in nature, twisting in the back to expose her tanned skin tastefully.

 

Boyd was clad in the same [attire ](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/30/29/ef/3029eff2d3315e69c563332d1b435f05.jpg)as the other groomsmen and dashing as ever, his mahogany skin illuminated by the crisp white of his dress shirt.

 

The suspenders attached to his wool trousers received a playful tug and he shook his head, shooting a playful glare toward the beauty at his side.

 

[Talia ](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/d9/a5/f8/d9a5f8e4a61a4bc046dcc6c7bd6259ff.jpg)laughed at the sight, winking conspiratorially when her daughter met her eyes. From his spot beneath the [wedding arch](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/11/e9/01/11e901b073a90ff4b0f890f340e650bd.jpg) [Erik ](http://www.trbimg.com/img-55943dd0/turbine/la-et-mg-joe-manganiello-labels-magic-mike-xxl-sofia-vergara-20150701)could merely shake his head, resigned to his wife and daughter’s mischievous ways.

 

Laura and Boyd arrived at the arch without further incident and parted ways as the next pair walked down the aisle, Laura standing on Stiles’ side and Boyd standing on Derek’s.

 

[Scott and Isaac](http://vignette4.wikia.nocookie.net/teenwolf/images/f/ff/Teen_Wolf_Season_3_Behind_the_Scenes_Daniel_Sharman_Tyler_Posey.png/revision/latest?cb=20130203200054) appear soon after, fingers linked together, eyes bright and smiles blinding as they pass. Scott leans in to whisper something in Isaac’s ear and the blonde’s face blooms beneath a blush.

 

[Melissa ](http://vignette3.wikia.nocookie.net/teenwolf/images/8/8a/Melissa_Ponzio.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20130131065528)from her spot in the front row, dabs her eyes at the sight.

 

Up next are Stiles’ cousin [Erica ](http://www1.pictures.stylebistro.com/gi/Gage+Golightly+Updos+Loose+Bun+RjAiYJIaVu5l.jpg)and her best-friend [Ethan](http://i.huffpost.com/gen/3875980/thumbs/o-CHARLIE-CARVER-570.jpg?1), they both attend Beacon Hills High with Cora and were a great help when it came time to assemble the wedding invitations.

 

Speaking of, [Cora ](http://images6.fanpop.com/image/photos/36900000/Cora-Screencaps-cora-hale-36963329-1280-718.jpg)appears next, her arms are linked with her girlfriend [Allison](http://hairstyles.thehairstyler.com/hairstyle_views/left_view_images/8175/original/Crystal-Reed.jpg)’s, both teens are visions in their haltered gowns, blushing and giggling as they walk.

 

[Lydia](http://36.media.tumblr.com/bcdcf85da3c0bd29939163deac33fbca/tumblr_niuhzqcI8M1rshr5to1_500.png) and [Jordan](https://67.media.tumblr.com/7122e83c8feeb55cb15b9dade6ffeb8b/tumblr_inline_o9d6z0ZfL31tiia9x_500.gif) round up the procession, looking every bit the regal couple Stiles assumed they would be, the red-heads eyes are soft and warm, if Jordan didn’t value his life he’d go so far as to say she was on the verge of tears. He settled for pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of her head.

 

When they settled in their places the symphony shifted to Bach’s “Air on a G String”.

 

Clad in suspenders of his own, [Nathan](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/47/aa/30/47aa30f1007f6fdbc09de4749184c6d2.jpg) came into view, face contorted with the utmost seriousness, his steps were careful as he held the ring box in hands, mindful of his cousin [Abigail](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/b9/a4/37/b9a43721660d342b3e9162317ac1af23.jpg) as she scattered petals around them.

 

When the toddlers arrive at the arch the sound of the orchestra increases in intensity and all the guests rise in anticipation of the groom’s appearance.

 

At the first sight of [Stiles ](http://67.media.tumblr.com/37681f543127191723941dfc64ee6646/tumblr_mlvghiE8IN1r9gofko1_500.jpg)Derek has to restrain himself from running down the aisle and taking his mate in his arms.

 

The younger man looks absolutely beautiful, he’s clad in an outfit similar to Nathan’s but sans the suspenders.

 

The top few buttons of his white dress shirt are unbuttoned, the soft grey of his vest clings to his body, accentuating the lean musculature of his body; his trousers, like his dress shoes are pitch black, identical to Derek’s tie and suit.

 

On his lapel is a [simple peony boutonniere, a gentle white](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/84/5c/4e/845c4e911d6c5c65b0abe4260ac241d4.jpg) to contrast the [soft pink](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/59/88/28/598828eb9280defe07f21425a5c665a8.jpg) attached to Derek’s.

 

He can hear [his father](http://content9.flixster.com/photo/10/50/34/10503407_ori.jpg) sniffling beside him and cracks a joke about the older man ruining his mascara, doing his best to halt the sting of tears threatening his own vision.

 

He always assumed he’d be so full of grief on his wedding day, focused on [his mother](http://celebritywc.com/images/holly-marie-combs-8.jpg)’s absence, but here, actually in the moment he feels nothing but an immeasurable happiness.

 

His heart swells at the sight of Derek, his mate, that gorgeous man waiting for him, to legally join them as one, to solidify what they themselves have asserted ages ago.

 

He does wish she was here, he always does to some degree but he can’t help but think she’s watching, coasting through the air around them, breathing life into every bouquet, guiding his steps so he doesn’t fall on his ass in front of all of these guests.

 

He laughs at the thought and nudges his father’s side gently, squeezing his shoulder, eyes bright with glee. John presses a kiss to his forehead and they continue toward the arch.

 

When they arrive his father hugs him before letting go, turning to give Derek one last playful warning glare.

 

Erik announces that the crowd can sit and begins his speech, he brings Derek’s hand up to rest at the base of Stiles’s spine, urging the younger man to do the same. The pair stare into one another’s eyes as Erik speaks of unity through love, connectedness merging twin spirits into a singular vessel.

 

“Let your grips ground you, in your hands you hold each other at your most sensitive point, the root of your internal essence, the crown of your spine is responsible for transmitting energy throughout the whole of your body, let eachother’s hands act as conduits for this energy, converge, from this day on everything you are and everything you will be is wrapped in one another. You are now a collective consciousness, a singular being vibrating with love and promises of new life.”

 

Erik glances between the pair, lips curling at the sight of them, he clears his throat, voice tight with emotion, and gestures to John.

 

The Sherriff, steps forward, he places his hands over where Derek and Stiles’ rest on one another’s necks and begins chanting, the sound of his mother tongue entrancing the crowd,

 

“Niech wasze serce będzie jako pacjenta jak ziemia , twoja miłość jak ciepły jak żniwa złota. Niech wasze dni są pełne, a miasto pełne jest twoje noce jako radosne jak tancerzy. Niech twoje ramiona są tak miłe jak w domu. Niech wasza wiara być tak trwałe jak miłość boską, twój duch jako dzielny jako dziedzictwo . Niech twoja ręka jest tak pewne , jak przyjaciela , swoje marzenia , jak nadziei jako dziecko. Niech twoja dusza być tak odważny jak swoich ludzi , a może być błogosławiony.”

 

John gives their hands a squeeze and then steps back, dabbing his eyes as he does so.

 

It’s Nathan’s turn now and he steps forward, handing the ring box to Derek and receiving a kiss on the cheek from Stiles in return.

 

Derek clears his throat, removing his hand from the back of Stiles neck to take his mate’s free hand in his own, Stiles mirrors the action so that they both stand facing one another, hands clasped.

 

“My love, my mate, light of my being and soon to be bearer of my name, with this ring, I give myself over to you fully, lawfully, spiritually, in this realm and beyond. I trust you to always come back to me, to guide me home to you, my beacon in the night, captor of my heart; I promise to love you fearlessly, unabashedly, with all that I am, I promise to wake up every day choosing to hold on to that love, to fight for that love, to be a man deserving of that love, you have shifted my worldview, you _are_ my worldview, the sun is in your smile, the stars shine in your eyes, your heart is vast, your brain the milky way, endless and boundless full of the undiscovered. I give you my life and my love, I trust that you will protect me in turn, my vulnerability is your strength, my devotion your sword and shield. All that I have become, I owe to you, my love, ‘till our final breath.”

 

A steady flow of tears cascade down his cheeks as his finishes, his heart is full, bursting with love for the man before him.

Stiles, like a vast majority of their guests isn’t fairing much better either. His freckled face is tinged pink and his golden eyes are moist, overflowing with tears.

 

He mouths an ‘I love you’, to Derek before he begins his part of the vow exchange.

 

“My love, my mate, light of my being and soon to be bearer of my name, with this ring we become one. I have found my twin flame, the joy of my life, there is heaven in your laugh. Your voice like honey, washes over me, syrupy slow and sticky sweet, my love, you are the only addiction I’ve ever known. I promise to accept you, for all that your are, let your flaws become mine and mine become yours, let us grow together, wrap around one another like tangling vines, blossoming and blooming under the warmth of our sure devotion. I see no future without you in it my darling, standing at my side, my constant comfort, you are the surest thing; my trust lies with you, always. My heart lies with you, always. When our children grow, may they have your wit, your beauty, your poise, my darling moon and stars, with you the circle completes, may we cycle on infinitely, in prosperity and love, ‘till our final breath.”

 

There isn’t a dry in the house at the conclusion of Stiles’ vows, Melissa and Talia are openly sobbing, Lydia is hiding her face in Parrish’s shoulder, and Erik has to take a few moments to collect himself before he can conclude the ceremony.

 

The pair exchange rings and then Erik announces that they may kiss, securing their union.

 

Derek surges forward, taking Stiles’ face in his hands and slotting their lips together. The kiss is passionate, a reflection of the emotion surging between the pair, he darts his tongue out for a quick taste and groans softly as Stiles deepens the kiss.

 

Its Laura who makes them break the kiss, whistling obnoxiously and spurring laughter from the crowd.

They part, flushed and happy, grinning at one another dopily.

 

Erik huffs out a laugh and claps them both on the back.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, Mister and Mister, Stilinski-Hale!”

  
The crowd erupts in cheers as Derek and Stiles run down the aisle, ducking rice and confetti as they steal quick kisses.

 

* * *

 

[Kate ](http://natalieandwayne.com/wp-content/uploads/Ep101-Jill-Wagner.jpg) finds him during the[ reception](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/67/d2/67/67d2675f5fa549d658530e9dc9dcfe66.jpg) [ dinner](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/bd/23/b6/bd23b64aa84bc52f3d911191321de39e.jpg), he’s not sure how she’s managed to sneak her way in but he has absolutely no patience for her bullshit.

 

He married the love of his life today, he’ll be damned if he gives her the satisfaction of affecting him in any way.

 

“Do you make it a habit of stalking married men as they try to use the restroom?” He drawls, face the complete definition of uninterested.

 

Rage burns behind her gaze, but she quickly schools her expression into something gentler, reaching out to place a hand on his arm.

 

He smoothly slides away from the touch, turning his gaze to his cuff links, ignoring her completely.

 

“I’ve come to apologize, Derek.”

 

He snorts, holding a hand out to cut her off.

 

“Got tired of Peter, huh? Now that mom’s cut him off he has no choice but to spend all of his time with you, baby this, and baby that, you should be thrilled, Katherine.” His smirk is an evil thing, twisting further as her eyes narrow, her reignited rage validating his words.

 

“He’s not you, Derek,” She tries, “he never was.” He full out laughs at that, clutching at his stomach as he attempts to catch his breath.

 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, the Academy Award goes to…” He announces, grinning when he sees her fists clench.

 

“As fun as this was, and I’m talking using a cheese grater as an enema fun, I’ve gotta jet, I have a husband and family who love me, and I’d hate to leave them waiting.” He reaches out to pat her on the shoulder in mocking but retracts his hand at the last moment, repulsed by the mere thought of touching her.

 

“I wouldn’t stick around if I were you, Katie, Stiles can be extra vicious when he’s had a few mojitos in him and he’s been waiting to fuck you up. Be sure to send my fuck you’s to Peter.”

 

He tosses a jaunty wave over his shoulder and heads back out into the [main area](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/6b/ff/fc/6bfffcc97097d30bc1ae84cf30ceadc2.jpg), dragging his husband onto the [dancefloor ](http://www.herecomestheguide.com/images/real_wedding_images/StringLightsOutsideDanceFloor23.jpg)the minute they’re within touching distance of one another.

 

Stiles' laughter is bright as echoes around the open space, his limbs are loose and flexible as he allows Derek to twirl him this way and that, guiding him along the dancefloor.

Nathan tugs on Stiles' pant leg as they slow dance and Derek hauls the toddler up and onto his hip, holding him in between them as they dance, grinning as Stiles peppers the baby's cheeks with feather light kisses.

That familiar blooming warmth settles in his chest and he tips his head back, thanking mother moon for granting him his mate.

 

* * *

 

Stiles could feel the press of Derek's erection against his hole and whined from his position in his lover's grip, pushing his ass out further, hips swaying enticingly.

 

Derek rumbled in satisfaction, fingers skimming over the taut flesh of Stiles' abs, caressing his pelvic bones and moving downward, purposefully skipping over where Stiles wanted him most.

 

Derek griped his pulsing length in his fist, jacking it a few times before rubbing it over Stiles' entrance. His mate pushed back at the sensation urging his lover to press forward.

 

Derek hissed in pleasure, a stream of pre-come leaking steadily from his throbbing tip.

 

"Can I fuck you, baby? Are you gonna let me in? Keep me snug in that tight little hole?"

 

Stiles moaned in response to the filth pouring out of Derek's mouth, words coming out in a punched out gasp as he struggled to reply.

 

"Please, Der, I need it, need you to fill me up, need your cum, baby, please."

 

Derek surged forward, guiding himself in inch by inch, he searched for Stiles' hand with his free one and joined their fingers together, letting the younger man squeeze tight as he pushed himself flush to the fleshy pallor of his rounded cheeks.

 

He peppered kisses along Stiles' hairline, whispering adorations while he waited for his lover to adjust.

 

Once he received the go ahead, he began shallowly pumping in and out of Stiles' hole, only speeding up when the younger man whined impatiently. 

 

He gave his husband's ass cheek a playful smack, warning him that he'd get what Derek would give and nothing more.

 

Stiles let out a pitiful huff but clenched his hole tightly around Derek's cock in retaliation.

 

Derek tutted mockingly and before Stiles knew it he was being carried over to the bed, Derek's cock still lodged firmly in his ass.

 

The older man sat on the edge of the bed, turning Stiles in his grip so that his husband's back was to his chest.

 

He settled a bruising grip on his hips and began to fuck up and into the freckle covered man, his hand now gently wrapped around his throat.

 

"This is what you wanted isn't it, baby? What you needed? Needed me to hold you still, get inside you, take what I want."

 

Stiles' mouth dropped open in an obscene moan as Derek nailed his prostate, he covered Derek's hand with his own at its position on his throat, throwing his head back to rest on his mate's shoulder.

 

When he speaks, its as though every word is knocked out of him, warbled by the force of Derek's thrusts, "F-fuck, that's what I wanted, needed you, Derek, need you just like this, always want your come, need to feel you gushing into me, painting my thighs."

 

That's how he comes, voice a hoarse scream as Derek continuously works over his sensitive bundle of nerves, the scent of his release triggers Derek's and the older man thrusts in once more before stilling his hips and keeping Stiles clamped down on his cock, cum spilling over where they're joined, dripping into the sheets below.

 

* * *

 

"I love you both, truly, but after three am, she's your daughter, Derek." Stiles groans out before turning his back and snuggling further into the sheets.

 

Derek huffs out a laugh, shaking his head as he climbs out of bed.

 

The door to the nursery creaks as he opens it and a warm smile settles across his face as [his daughter](http://cdn.patch.com/users/127196/stock/T800x600/20150154c116fb969fb.jpg) comes into view.

 

Catalina babbles excitedly at the sight of her papa, chubby arms reaching out for his embrace.

 

Derek scoops her up immediately, cradling the one-year old in his arms and pressing kisses to her soft skin.

 

"It's just you and me this lap, Kitty Cat, daddy's got an important lecture to teach tomorrow so he needs his rest. But that's fine, right? We both know papa tells the best stories anyway."

 

Catalina gurgles up at him in what Derek chooses to assume is agreement before latching on to his finger in a surprisingly tight grip.

 

He walks over to the rocking chair, settling into a soothing tone as he begins his story.

 

"Once upon a time, there was a grumpy but devastatingly handsome grad student. Because of his massive course load this grad student would come into the library weekly to study. One day he caught sight of an angel fumbling around the circulation desk. Just like that, Cupid's arrow took hold. Now, the grad student wanted the angel, wanted to tell him how beautiful he was but he wasn't quite sure how the angel would react so instead he watched from afar, changing his weekly visits to daily, always with the hope of catching a glimpse of the angel who worked there..."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The English translation of John's wedding blessing/speech can be found here, it's a traditional Polish wedding blessing: http://www.weddingministerct.com/wedding-blessings.htm
> 
> Aside from that all other written content is the product of my own mind.
> 
> All the embedded images are courtesy of Google/Pinterest.
> 
> Thank you for reading! Comment and let me know what you think!
> 
> I just posted another WIP, if the mood strikes you, check it out, its a soulmates AU w/ dream sharing, magic!Stiles, alpha!Derek and a touch of A/B/O: http://archiveofourown.org/works/7381633/chapters/16767589


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